


Both Hunter and Prey

by mandjalorian



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Equal plot and smut?, Eventual Sex, F/M, Maybe - Freeform, No use of y/n, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Sexual Frustration, Slow Burn, Smut, Some Fluff, Some Plot, Teasing, Touch-Starved, Touching, Vaginal Fingering, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22259839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandjalorian/pseuds/mandjalorian
Summary: The first time the Mandalorian chased you was purely professional. The second time he chased you was to recover his Mythosaur amulet. By the fourth time, he had you chasing him. The story of what happens when a Mandalorian become both hunter and prey, not for the Empire, but for you.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 133
Kudos: 565





	1. Chapter One

The first time the Mandalorian chased you was purely professional.

“It was petty theft!” You yelled indignantly over your shoulder at him. You never got to hear his response. Immediately you slid right down into the sewers of Kor Vella, as planned. You did hear him kick the vent in frustration. The maintenance hole was much too small for him to slip through. As you escaped down the tunnel, you heard the blaster shots aimed at the sturdy vent just next to where he’d lost you, but the shots were half hearted at best.

You enjoyed the chase immensely. There were few who could take the man in a fight, but you liked to think you could outrun him. You’d eluded him to his utter frustration and your complete glee. 

That is, until he stopped pursuing you. The word on the street was that the Mandalorian had returned the puck to the client. Intrigued (you’d also heard he’d never not caught a bounty) and peeved that he’d given up so easily, you resurfaced from your reclusive temporary den under Kor Vella. Now that you had enough credits to live off for some time, you wanted some fun. The plan was to find the Mandalorian. But the Mandalorian found you first.

“That’s real dirty, Mandalorian,” you pouted as he cuffed you tightly, knowing now he had started the rumor about returning the puck himself.

He barely spoke to you. But he didn’t freeze you in carbon either; that was something. Still, all you managed to get out of him were commands and tight-lipped, one-worded responses.

He took you right back to Tralus where he’d been hired through the Bounty Guild. There, they took you from his custody and right down to a cell. You weren’t too worried; you’d been in worse predicaments than this before.

You managed to escape the cell; it had been tricky but not impossible. It wasn’t long after you were stealing a craft and jetting out of there. You’d had enough of this system, and you were sure they’d had enough of you. Besides, you had a new quarry of your own in mind. He’d found you once, he would find you again. You smiled wickedly as you fidgeted, twisting the item around in your hand. His mythosaur skull signet. The one he’d been wearing tight around his neck right before he’d handed you away. The sign of his people. Surely if a person was worth finding for their crime of petty theft, the theft of something much more meaningful warranted a quicker search. 

So the second time, he chased you to recover the amulet. This time there was a bit more talking.

He found you in the Drive Yards of Kuat. You were genuinely just looking for parts, and he’d found you faster than you’d anticipated. But you were ready.

The pursuit was longer this time as you led him out of the Yards and through a dense area of forest towards your ship. He had a lot more to say this time.

Things like “where is it” and “why did you take it” and “you’re going to regret this, thief.” He was out of breath far before you were, but he had tricks up his sleeve you’d neglected to anticipate. His grappling line caught you around the ankle, taking you down. You tried to escape the line’s grasp, but then he was on you. 

The ensuing struggle was both frightening and exhilarating. He was strong, too strong, but you were fast. Both sweating and tired from the sprint from the Yards, you wrestled for escape, him for dominance. But, of course, he was much too powerful. You gasped for air as he trapped your torso between his thighs, his right vambrace tight against your throat. 

“Where is it,” he asked in his lowest, most threatening voice. Despite your lack of air, you smiled and looked suggestively down at your breasts.

You swore you felt him roll his eyes, but he hesitated all the same when you started rolling your hips up against his. 

“Stop that,” he grunted hoarsely in his heavily modulated voice. You tried to speak but it came out choked, and he finally relented his arm, knowing he had you pinned with the full weight of his body.

“Let me go and I’ll get it for you,” you quipped. 

He only scoffed, but the scoff turned into a cough when you rolled your hips again. 

“Stop. It.” You heard him hiss through gritted teeth and his left arm moved down to anchor your hips, freeing your right hand.

“You’re saying one thing, but your body is saying another,” you grinned wickedly up at him, rolling your hips again, feeling the hardness against your waist, knowing it wasn’t beskar. You trailed your right hand down his rusting beskar, attempting to touch him, but he caught your hand and forced it back over your head, leaving your hips free to move again.

He growled and attempted to pin you down further, but that only increased the friction for the both of you when you rocked your hips again. This time you moaned slightly, and he froze. You could hear his breathing quicken. 

Suddenly he was reaching down your tunic, and you couldn’t help the squeak that escaped you at the feel of his gloves on your bare skin. He tilted his helmet almost imperceptibly at you. The signet had been trapped tightly in your bralette, and he struggled to loosen it, and you swore he was touching more than where he needed to. Too soon, the game was over and he had the signet back in his grip. 

“Don’t move,” he rasped, stashing the signet away from your view. He drew his blaster and pointed it at your head. 

You couldn’t help yourself; you really couldn’t. You grinned and rolled your hips again. He groaned and reversed off you as fast as he could, but you had a plan and he hadn’t anticipated it either. Before he could stand, you were wrapping your legs around his waist and twisting around so that now you were the one straddling him. You weren’t as heavy nor nearly as strong as the Mandalorian, and he should have been able to flip you around with ease. Instead, he lay under you, the blaster now pointed absently toward the trees.

“You’re a strange one,” he rasped, and you ground your hips against his slowly to quiet him. He dropped the blaster and gripped your thighs tightly. 

“So are you, Mandalorian,” you shot back in a low tone, your hands anchoring you above his chest. 

“Why did you take it?” His voice was curious now, but it was strained still, by the pressure you were exerting with your hips.

You shrugged. “Knew you’d come after me if I did.” His hips bucked suddenly, catching you off guard. Instinct told you to flee, but you stopped when you realized he’d been teasing you back. An involuntary moan escaped you and you returned the favor.

“Why did you want me to come after you?” His voice was heavy with the same thing you felt, and you responded with the only answer you could. You sat up and leaned back, your hands resting on either side of his legs, as you continued to grind against him. 

His gloved hand moved now to the junction of your thighs, and he ran his fingers lightly against the fabric there right at your center. He used two fingers to press down on your cunt and rubbed short sweet circles over the spot. You threw your head back, trying to catch your breath.

Unfortunately, as lost as you were and as lost as you knew he was, it was time to escape. Grinding your hips slowly once more, you made the last knot of the grippling line around his feet before leaping off him. Without a look back, you were sprinting as fast you ever had toward your ship. You heard him curse and his struggle to free himself from the grippling line. But you made it off the planet in one piece, and you’d managed to exchange one treasure for another. You holstered his blaster in place of yours. He was going to be livid.

The third time took him even longer. He had more weapons after all, not to mention a profession to maintain. But he finally caught up to you on the arid planet of N’zoth. You were almost sure he’d given up on you. You were just packing up to get off planet when the door blasted open. You dropped to the floor on instinct and rolled behind the sleeper. You were sure one of the bounties on you had finally caught up to you. But no blaster fire followed. 

Curious, you aimed the blaster over the sleeping pad and peeked over to see him, and your face broke into a wide smile quite against its own accord. His visor faced your way from the door but you knew his eyes were trained on his blaster in your thieving little hands.

“Petty thief,” you heard him scoff disbelievingly as he shook his head.

He approached you slowly, in that confident stride you’d already grown used to. Whatever weapon he’d used to blast the lock off the door was nowhere to be seen, so you stood, the blaster now behind your back and tucked into your waistband. 

“What took you so long?” You wondered. 

He stalked towards you. “Bounties,” he finally managed gruffly. Then he was reaching out his hand expectantly, palm up. Playfully, you took the offered hand and laced your fingers through his. “The blaster.” He said deadpan, but he didn’t shake your grip off either. 

“We’ll get there,” you purred, getting ready to attempt to pull him down so you could leap over him and out the open door. 

As if he could read your thoughts, the Mandalorian tightened his grip and before you could do anything to stop him, he was flipping you onto the bed and cuffing you to the sleeper.

He leaned back, still crouched over you, one armoured knee resting on the sleeper between your legs. 

“Only one set of binders?” You wriggled the fingers of your free hand at him, until he caught that hand in his. With his other hand, he pulled out the loose grippling line you’d used to tie his feet together all those cycles ago. 

You laughed delightedly and stuck your tongue out at him with a wink. “Kinky.” 

A gruff noise from under his helmet was the only response he deigned give. He leaned over and tied your hand to the opposite post, though nowhere near as tightly as he’d once cuffed you. You took that was an opportunity to softly bite his unshielded abdomen through his clothes. He groaned involuntarily.

He started leaning back, but you didn’t want him to go anywhere and he hadn’t restrained your legs. You wrapped your legs around him tightly.

He paused and looked down at you. Or at least you thought he did. It was hard to tell through the darkly tinted visor of his helmet. He tilted said helmet at you, seemingly lost in thought. Then he was leaning down, both hands resting on either side of your head, and though this is what you wanted, you quickly grew short of breath as you felt his body lower against yours. 

“Why do you keep taking my things, thief?” But he didn’t give you a chance to respond because then he was running his hand down your neck, tickling a line down your chest between your breasts.

You hummed softly, unwillingly. You were supposed to maintain the upper hand. “It’s fun.” You managed finally. But it was getting harder to maintain calm because now he was tracing lines over your breast. Then he was drawing circles over your hardening nipple with one gloved finger over your tunic. A sharp intake of breath when he pinched your nipple between two fingers.

The gaze of his helmet moved from your chest to your face. “Are you having fun now?” He spoke in the same calm voice as always, but his arousal against your thigh told you he was having as much fun as you were.

He took your breast in his hand and kneaded and squeezed, rolling your nipple deftly between his gloved fingers. You had no breath left to speak. Until he was moving his hand down and away from your breast. 

“Please,” you whispered feather soft. He shifted his weight to one side, never taking his visor off your face, and you watched his gloved hand trail its way down your stomach. He stopped and, impatient, you whined and rocked your hips toward his hand.

“Tell me what you want,” he commanded roughly, resting his hand teasingly between your legs, the slightest brush of his knuckle over your clothed slit.

“Touch.” You gasped. “Touch me. Under.” He didn’t move. “Please,” you panted. That did it.

He followed the curve of your pelvis beneath the waistband of your pants, tantalizingly slow. You waited with bated breath and so could not stop the moan that escaped your lips, raw and wanting, when the tip of one leather fingertip slipped through your slit and found the nub waiting there. His light touch on that bundle of nerves set something off inside of you, and the pleasure spread to every fingertip and toe. 

The Mandalorian paused. “Look at me.” This time there was definitely a hoarseness to his voice, like he was barely restraining himself. You’d been looking at where his vambrace met your skin, but your eyes shot to his visor, and the moment they did, his finger began moving again, rubbing short sweet circles over your clit. 

You began to close your eyes lazily at the wave of pleasure rising in you, but the second you did, he froze again, and your eyes shot open with a whimper. You stared intently his way. He began again, tracing your folds with one finger before returning to your bud. 

You cried out when his middle finger began gliding further down between your lips toward your entrance. You were impossibly wet already. He slid his finger back and forth a few times gathering wetness before returning to your center. You began moving your hips, trying to increase the friction, make it go faster. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think at all.

Suddenly he was pulling his hand out of your pants and swiftly standing. Your legs had been too weak to hold him, trembling as they were from your impending and now frustrated release. You snarled. He’d slipped his blaster from under you when you’d been ridiculously grinding up at him.

“You kriffing-” you growled, fighting against your restraints.

“It’s not nice is it?” He growled back. It was definitively not nice. You were simultaneously flushed with pleasure, frustrated beyond belief that he hadn’t finished you off and frantic to get free. He ignored you, turning to survey your travel pack.

He scooped something up but from your angle on the sleeper, you couldn’t see what. 

“Kriffing piece of bantha fodder!” You threw yourself around on the bed, trying to use the leverage of your weight to break free, but before you could get even one arm loose, the Mandalorian had slipped out the open door.

He’d taken your data pad, the one thing among your pile of junk he knew you’d have no choice but to go after. You wanted to rage but all you could do was laugh. The Mandalorian held your livelihood in his hands, but what mattered most to you was that he was enjoying the chase as much as you were.

The next time, you were chasing him now, but in a way, hadn’t it been that way from the start?

You found him on the planet Hapes. It wasn’t hard, given that you could track your data pad’s location, within range. You gave it time though, waiting until it was clear he would be leaving soon. You waited in your own ship, watching. When the maintenance crew abandoned the Razor Crest to take a long lunch, you traversed your way up the open ramp. You ascended the ladder and hopped into the co-pilot seat, and waited. 

You heard the heavy footsteps, the weaker voice of another humanoid pleading, then the unmistakable sound of the carbonite freezing process. Your heart beat increased and you wondered if you were foolish for trapping yourself in a small cockpit with only one way out in a ship manned by a natural hunter. But you willed away the thought. An escape route was always, always your first priority, but sometimes your body was just too far ahead of your brain.

You heard him climbing the ladder. For a second, and only a second, you considered taking out your blaster. But that was foolish. The doors to the cockpit slid open and the Mandalorian stepped through and looked right at you.

“What do you want now, _thief_?” He asked, unfazed, making sure to place emphasis on the word thief.

You blinked in surprise. “How did you know I was here?” You grumbled, annoyed you’d somehow lost the element of surprise you thought you had.

He tilted his helmet curiously at you. “Smell,” he said simply.

And your cheeks grew warm at the thought that he knew you by smell only already. But then you realized, so did you. He was earthy, metallic, like blaster fire and leather and- Pure him. You grew warm somewhere else now.

“Funny you should call me thief considering you took my data pad,” you accused, far too high and mighty considering you actually were a self-proclaimed thief.

He ignored you and began flipping buttons on the console, powering the engine up. “What have you taken since you’ve been in here?” He asked, his tone light but clipped.

You giggled. He was such a pleasure. No wonder you’d pursued this fruitless game of cat and mouse. No one else could measure up. “Guess you’ll have to find out.” You teased. 

You stood meaning to leave the cockpit to find your data pad. You were halfway through the door when the Mandalorian’s large hand gripped your shoulder. “Yeah,” he agreed shortly, “guess I’ll have to find out.”

Then he was tripping you to the ground, but the palm of his large hand caught the back of your head before it hit the floor, and his other arm lowered the rest of you down.

You struggled, but he pinned you down fully with his body. You moaned against your own volition. Now that you’d noticed his smell, you couldn’t stop. It filled your senses.

Then his hands were roaming your body without restraint. To be fair, it did seem like he was searching for something, but for someone who’d yet to steal anything, you were enjoying this far too much. 

He paused when his hands reached your middle, but you took his hand and urged them downwards. At the same time, you were using your hands now and he wasn’t stopping you. You trailed your fingers up the cold metal of his beskar until you met the warmth of his chest beneath all that fabric, then your fingers were tracing his arms down until they met his hands which were resting- just under your waistband? You groaned and, unable to help yourself, you moved to inch your hands beneath his belt now. He stopped you suddenly.

“Wait-” he argued, but his resolve was weak. Had been, you knew, since the first time you’d straddled him. You pulled your hands from his grasp and he didn’t stop you. You reached one warm, trembling hand under his undone belt and waistband. You heard his breathing under the helmet slow nearly to a stop. 

Then your hand was wrapping around his long, thick member. It pulsed in your hands and you squeezed and the Mandalorian let out the most delicious gasp you’d ever heard. 

You were short of breath too now. It was so big. So smooth. You kept a grip on him and ran your hand up and down the length of him. Then your thumb was searching out the wet precum on his tip and you sighed with satisfaction. At the same time, he jerked into your hand. He reached his hand down as if to stop you then seemed to stop himself, indecisive. 

It was clear you were driving him mad. You smoothed the precum around the head of his cock, wishing you could taste it. He jerked into your hand again but then you were running your grip down the length of him again. He grunted when you cupped his balls and squeezed softly playing with them in the warmth of your palm. You took his member into your hand again and ran your grip along his velvety smoothness, trickling your fingernails along the hair on his lower stomach. Under his helmet, he was uttering words in that deep modulated voice of his, words in some other language you did not know.

You couldn’t help it. You needed to see it. You needed to taste it. You teased the tip of the head again, making him jerk roughly. You could hear him gasping for breath. You pulled your hand out and this time he tried to stop you from stopping.

“Need.” You gasped too now. “Mouth.” He watched dazedly as you brought your fingers with his precum on it to your mouth and sucked. He twitched, then was grabbing your wrist, whether to stop you or urge you on, you couldn’t tell. 

“Fuck-” you heard him mutter, but you ignored him, sitting up so he had to kneel and then you were fumbling to undo his pants completely so you could have him in your mouth.

But then- The doors to the cockpit slid open with a hiss, and the Mandalorian all at once was hunter again. He unholstered his blaster so quickly it was a blur and pointed it toward the door while at the same time bringing his other hand around your head and pulling you toward him. 

At first, you thought he was trying to get you to take him in your mouth as planned while- killing somebody? No, then you realized- he was being protective. With you? It all of a sudden made you go warm all over. Why would the Mandalorian be protective of you? Still, there it was. He was protecting you without a thought. The warmth at the gesture overtook your arousal. Which confused you. Escape. It was all too much. So escape it was. 

“I said no droids!” The Mandalorian growled. 

Good, it wasn’t a threat. Just a droid. Which was somehow a problem. Duly noted. For later. 

Before he could blink, you were sliding down and backwards out of his grasp, rolling beneath the legs of the Meddroid and then hopping down through the port hole past the ladder. With the Mandalorian clearly pre-occupied with his chosen enemy of a droid, you spared several moments searching the bay before skipping down the ramp and to your ship only yards away. 

You were airborne when the Mandalorian was exiting the Razor Crest, simultaneously kicking the droid down the ramp and yelling something up at you. You spared a quick second to grin and point at your ear, to indicate you couldn’t hear.

You had to hightail it out of there before he got his ship off the ground. You didn’t want to find yourself on the other end of the guns of a Razor Crest, though with his baby beside you, you doubted he’d shoot. You eyed the Amban Rifle you’d taken. He was going to be kriffing boiling. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you saw him again. You tucked your recovered data pad back into your pack and relished the chase.

He pursued you to the ice planet Hoth. It was only supposed to have been a detour for you to refuel. You thought you’d be off planet by the time he even tracked you to this system. Instead, you found yourself cursing under your breath as you approached the docking bay and saw the unmistakable outline of the Razor Crest, docked between you and your stolen ship. Luckily, the rifle was draped over your back. You’d taken to wearing it because when he caught you, you wanted him to see you wearing it.

You chastised yourself as you hid behind the ship of a Dressellian preoccupied with repairing her ship. You watched both the Razor Crest and your ship simultaneously but detected no movement. You decided to take the gamble and reboard your ship; the longer the chase, the more incensed he would be when he finally caught up to you. Just as you were passing the Razor Crest with bated breath, you saw a movement in your ship. The doors hissed open revealing a frustrated Mandalorian. You froze; he froze. For the longest moment, you both stared. 

Then you turned tail and sprinted back in the direction you’d come, toward the doors to the hangar bay. You’d seen a group of parked speeder bikes and if he was going to insist on chasing you, you were going to make it worth his while. You heard modulated curses and the clank of beskar, but it was comfortably far enough behind you that you were sure you would not be caught. Not here at least.

The startled gaze of various travelers alike watched as the seasoned hunter ran you down, but you were out the doors of the bay before they could work out what was happening.

The air was chilling, biting at your face and for a mere second you considered ending the chase here; you were dressed for space cold, not arctic cold, but adrenaline drew you to the first speeder bike you saw. 

You threw the thruster into the bike’s highest speed, nearly jettisoning yourself off the bike as it sped away from the hangar bay and into the cold, white wilderness of Hoth. Snow began to fall lightly. You heard the whine of another bike behind you and smiled wildly. He was unstoppable. You liked everything about him so much. 

“Stop, thief,” you heard his modulated voice growl, too close for comfort over the screeching of the speeder bikes. 

You adjusted the thrusters nearly down to a stop so he zoomed past you, nearly throwing yourself off again. The thrill was exhilarating. You swept left away from the direction he was turning and moved the thrusters to full speed once again. He must have had the faster bike though because he was rapidly gaining on you again. The harsh winter air was stinging your uncovered face but you ignored that, your impatience at finally actually being near him again growing.

Suddenly, your bike sputtered harshly, and you heard loud grinding from beneath you. “Kriff.” You cursed.

The Mandalorian seemed to hear it as well. “Stop the bike,” he ordered again, but this time his voice was laced with something more akin to concern than anger. 

You ignored him, willing the bike to get you back to the hangar bay or at least as close as it could. You were starting to lose feeling in your fingers. Suddenly, you were brought to an abrupt halt, and this time, you couldn’t stop the inertia that carried you from atop the bike to a snow drift at least ten feet ahead of you. Luckily, it was a fresh soft pile, but it swallowed you practically whole, until you were submerged in it. 

“Kriff,” you managed through numb lips and chattering teeth. You heard his speeder bike racing away and then racing back around and slowing to a stop. He was silent, but you heard the crunch of his boots on the fresh snow and felt his arm through the crisp white powder search for you. You grasped his gloved hand tightly and he pulled you effortlessly through the pile and into him.

You shivered as you met his cold beskar, but warmth radiated off his body still. 

“You’re half-witted, you know that, right?” He asked you in a modulated voice full of both annoyance and...warmth?

Though your natural instinct was to get away from perceived danger, you huddled closer to him for his body heat. You smiled slyly up at him and nodded. He sighed. 

“How did you even manage to run with this?” You felt him slide the slightly-too-big-for-you Amban rifle from around your shoulders and were too frozen to stop him. You watched instead as he slung it over his own shoulder.

He took a step back, and you whined. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him again. You felt one gloved finger swipe icy snow from your lips.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t leave you here to find your way back,” he growled, but his tone was light, and you were sure he didn’t mean it. Mostly.

You pursed your lips against his finger but he drew it away before you could take it in your mouth so you sidled closer to him, and this he let you do. You nuzzled his chest with your head and slung one arm around his waist. He followed your hand with his, taking it in his own, but leaving yours around his waist. More a precaution to keep you from stealing than a sign of affection.

His warmth was intoxicating. Despite your predicament in the cold weather (snow had begun falling faster), he was getting you hot again where it mattered. His shortening breaths told you that you weren’t the only one. 

His other hand had come to rest on your bum and you felt him caressing you softly. Then suddenly, he was drawing away. You pouted briefly.

“Let’s go,” he commanded gruffly. “Before you freeze.”

He pulled you along behind him back toward the speeder bike and, too cold to argue, you let him. He mounted the bike and, watching you shiver, he sighed. He unclasped his cloak from each shoulder then unceremoniously draped it around yours. You reveled in the material which smelled of him. 

He motioned for you to get on the speeder behind him. You shook your head. “In front,” you insisted. He started to argue, but you shot at him, “I’m cold.” He sighed again then scooted back to make room for you. 

You smiled, satisfied, and stumbled toward the bike. He had to help you clamber on and once you were mounted in front of him, he hunched around you to take the controls of the bike. You melted into him as much as the beskar against your back would allow.

He grunted softly as you ground your ass into him. “Stop that,” he bit at you before turning the speeder around and heading back toward the hangar. You ignored him and continued to grind backwards into him. Despite the biting wind in your face, you were slowly warming up again. He tightened his thighs around yours and you sighed contentedly.

The darkness around you was growing rapidly just as the snow began to fall faster. You heard the Mandalorian say something under his breath. From the reader on the bike, you could tell you were still hundreds of khelters away from the bay. Strong winds were pushing against the bike in all directions, making it difficult for the Mandalorian to navigate. You stopped teasing him then. 

It was no use. There was no way you were going to make it back before this blizzard overtook you both. You surveyed your surroundings, the snow drifts around you of varying heights; some were just snow, others were mountains of rock. It was getting so hard to see, that’s how thickly the snow fell now.

“There,” you pointed a shaking finger at the opening you saw in one drift. A black hole behind which could be anything, but shelter was shelter.

The Mandalorian followed your gaze and muttered, “We’ll freeze.”

“We might. But we definitely will if we don’t stop.” You argued as loudly as you could over the blistering wind. 

He grunted in frustration, seemed to be determined on his suicidal course back to the hangar, then- He curved the bike, faltering in the cold, toward the area you’d pointed in, now hidden in a flurry of snow. But he had his helmet with built-in scanners; he’d get you both where you needed to be. Unwillingly, a sense of security enveloped you and you cringed at the sensation. You were never secure in this galaxy, that you could be sure of. Not even an armoured Mandalorian with a growing sense of fondness toward you could change that.

Then, he was slowing the speeder as it drifted into the black tunnel. The sudden stop jolted you forward, but his arm snaked around your middle bringing you back to rest against him. The cave was cold, though not nearly as cold as outside, but worse, it was completely dark. 

Then- the Mandalorian shown a bright light from the side of his helmet. Your mouth dropped at the sight. Charcoal walls of slate rock and a ceiling of glistening, sharp icicles. The Mandalorian’s light bounced off the hundreds of icicles above, bright shiny lights bouncing off the walls of the cave, as if hundreds of candles had been lit within. But you saw past the beauty to the way the icicles could impale you both from above. You glanced up at his helmet. Well, you anyway. 

The Mandalorian sighed, but his light found a tunnel at the end of the cave. He eased the bike forward slowly to rest in the middle of the uninhabited cave, then swung one leg off the bike. Before waiting for you to move, he took your waist in both hands and lifted you off the bike and onto the ground. You were still too frozen to argue. 

You led the way, though his light burnt brightly from behind you, guiding you. You should have been scared, but you were mostly intrigued. You wrapped his cloak tighter around you and wandered down the tunnel, the icicles growing sparse and the air growing just slightly warmer. The chill still sank to your bones. Finally the tunnel eased into another, smaller cave. Puddles of frozen water bordered the edges. A large indent filled the center and you staggered into it, hoping it might provide some semblance of shelter.

“Abandoned wampa den,” the Mandalorian muttered, his modulated voice echoing bluntly off the walls of the chamber. 

You spared him a grin. “Hopefully not abandoned or how will we get warm?” You tried for a playful tone but your chattering teeth only made you sound cold. 

Still, your eyes trailed from his visor down to his groin. He sighed again and approached you. “Storm should pass in a matter of hours,” he murmured. 

“I know how we can pass the time,” you joked. Well, half-joked. You actually meant the sentiment.

Perhaps he had the same idea because he was reaching for your face with his glove, but no. He pressed a tool from his vambrace to your face. A red light scanned your skin and you struggled out of his grip.

“What are you doing?” 

He ignored you and clicked a button on his vambrace then sighed. “Your body temperature is falling below optimal.” So mechanic of him, you thought. Kind of like those droids he hated so much.

“Better give me some of yours then.” You ran your palms up his chilled beskar and aligned yourself to him. 

He froze for a moment as you pushed against him then he let out a sigh of contentment. “That’s the idea.” His modulated voice came out low and raspy. 

You moaned happily and wrapped your stiff arms around his neck, trying to gain the leverage you’d need to move against him.

He huffed under his helmet. “Do you think of nothing else?” His modulated voice seemed the slightest bit amused. 

“Only around you.”

He wrapped his beskar clad arms around your waist tightly and fell to sit on the ground with you planted on his lap. He twisted you around so your back was now to his chest and brought his hands up to cover yours over your middle.

He began caressing your frozen hands, attempting to get your blood flowing again. You threw your head back in frustration, nearly hitting his helmet. He tilted his head to the side quickly, and you rested your head sideways in the crook of his warm neck. His hands trailed from yours up to your chest and neck, rubbing and caressing, the intent warmth not pleasure, though he was giving you both. 

He focused on your chest, rubbing the skin over your heart with his warmth. Every time he brushed your breasts, you had to bite back a moan. Until- he intentionally squeezed one, then the other, before moving up to leave trails of warmth over your neck. His hands spread a trail of fire back down your torso to your thighs. He caressed you there too, leaned forward and massaged your knees, your calves. Then his hands were back on your stomach. He took an arm in each hand and rubbed from shoulder to fingertip sensually and slowly. 

You could feel his chest move with every breath he inhaled, and it calmed you. These touches weren’t sexual and yet they awakened in you something deeper. You groaned at the sensation but not lustfully. With his hands paying attention to what seemed like every inch of you, you felt full in a way you didn’t think sex could give you. Though you could not say why, this made you sad and frustrated you. You tried to take his hands in yours and move them down to your center. There was nothing confusing about him making you cum.

“Later,” he promised in a modulated hum. He moved back to your chest, neck and arms again. You’d never felt this good. There was something too tender about his touches. He wasn’t trying to bring you pleasure. He was just trying to keep you alive. It had been too long since anyone had taken care of you in this way. It made you feel safer than you had in the longest time, and if it wasn’t so cold you might have scrambled away from his tender touch because it was doing nothing but confusing you.

You fell asleep in his arms with these thoughts kneading and squeezing your mind, much as his hands kneaded and squeezed you. You dreamt of your mother, warm and loving, of your childhood before the dark had set in. And you dreamt of strong, blazing arms wrapped tight around you, shielding you from the growing darkness of the universe.


	2. Chapter Two

You awoke warm and drowsy and could feel the earth moving beneath you. You scrambled to figure out where you were and what was happening. You felt impeded, trapped, something tight around your shoulders and panic ensued and you struggled. 

The Mandalorian removed his cloak from over your face to look down at you. Above him, you could see flurries of snow in the sky speeding past, but it was you that was moving. 

“You’re alright.” He promised, and you hated that you believed him. 

His arms had been gripping you tightly, but he relinquished his grip and let you sit up straight and away from him, though his cloak, now dry and warm again, remained wrapped around you. You blinked at a humanoid watching what transpired between you two.

“Search and rescue team.” The Mandalorian provided, in a clipped tone. “Apparently it’s common for others to...get lost around here in the storms.”

You smiled up at him finally. _A lie_. You’d recklessly and unnecessarily led him on a chase through the terrain of what you knew to be an unpredictable planet.

A dangerous thought crossed your mind then. Why did he put up with you? You’d heard his body count was through the roof. One blaster shot, and you’d no longer be his problem. You’d been staring up at him, lost in thought.

A gloved finger at your jaw caught your attention. You evaded his grip with a cheeky grin and huddled away from him beneath his cloak. You felt his gaze from beneath the dark visor, but he said nothing. 

Upon your arrival to the hangar, you were, quite against your will, taken by a group of fussy nurse droids to a medical chamber. You glared at the Mandalorian accusingly as they led you again; he’d done nothing to stop them. So much for distrusting droids. You knew he’d be gone by the time you got back. That was a part of the game.

The droids immediately injected you with a warmth serum then left you buried under a pile of a combination of aluminum and cloth blankets. The serum worked its way through you quickly and, as you elbowed your way out of the blankets, you felt yourself quickly becoming almost too warm. You managed to slip out a door marked _Med Personnel Only_ and back to your ship. The spot where the Razor Crest had been was overwhelmingly empty now. You huffed and stalked into your ship, the last vestiges of chill finally leaving your body. 

You were not surprised to see that things were not as you had left them. You rummaged through your pack and breathed a sigh of relief to find your data pack. So he had only been looking for the rifle. Everything else seemed to be there, if not in their usual place. There was only one other thing you cared to check, but you knew it was in no danger of being taken. You lifted your sleep cot and pried open the hidden metallic lid of the secret compartment below. The air left your body as if you’d taken a blow to the stomach. It was gone. The one and only thing you had left from your childhood, a relic from your mother. Somehow he’d found it and, worse, he’d taken it. 

Normally, you’d feel relief that he too wanted to keep up the chase. Normally you’d be looking forward with anticipation to your next charged meeting with the Mandalorian. Now, you were livid. 

It took you several long rotations to find him this time, almost as if he didn’t want to be found. The thought stung for a moment, but like everything else meaningful you chose to ignore it. And you were desperate to get your mother’s necklace back. You supposed you deserved it considering the first thing you ever took from him was the signet of his people. But double standards aside, you couldn’t help but simmer. Why, out of everything he could have taken, did he take that? And how had he even found it?

You landed in Calna Muun, the capital city of the planet Agamar. The Razor Crest sat in a dock three ships down; you studied it through your viewport. It had taken some hits since you last saw him. Quite a few if your memory of the hull held. There was so much carbon scoring surrounding the craft, it looked nearly as if he’d been in battle.

Worry you’d never asked for built in your chest as you wondered what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into and whether he was alright. Now you seethed at yourself. You liked the Mandalorian chasing you, yes, and you liked him on top of you even more, but that was all. You refused to worry about his well-being otherwise. But, contrary to your thoughts, your traitor legs took you out of the cockpit faster than you meant to. You slung your travel pack over your shoulder. You’d never leave your most cherished items unprotected in your ship again. 

As you strode out of the hangar, eyes peeled for the familiar rusty beskar, your heart began to beat faster and your stomach fluttered. It had been awhile now since you’d last seen him. You were impatient to see him again and nervous, but you couldn’t say why. As of late, your thoughts had gone to him more and more, unbidden. Even your dreams betrayed you. You tried to convince yourself it was only his body above or below yours that you missed. But you were starting to get worried that it was more. Which was why you planned to end the chase here on Agamar. You’d get him to fuck you once and for all; you’d get your necklace back and then you would be on your way. You didn’t even plan to steal from him again.

You’d been in Calna Muun once before, and you decided to start your search for the Mandalorian at a cantina you’d frequented then. If he wasn’t there, surely anyone who’d seen the hunter would be talking about him. You rounded a corner into a deserted alley, intent on taking a shortcut.

It was then you saw the shadow, long and lean, fall beside yours as you walked. Your hand fell to your blaster; you’d been followed. Your mind solely on the Mandalorian, you had let your guard down. You turned swiftly, hoping against all hope it was him. Of course it wasn’t.

Two more figures joined the one whose shadow you’d seen, each face more familiar than the last. All held tracking signals in their hands. 

“You’re a hard one to track.” The Twi’lek, Ker Hana, sauntered your way as he spoke. “We had to join forces just to get you in one place.”

The human, Doln, was another bounty hunter you’d outrunned on more than one occasion. That wasn’t hard though; he was the most half-witted being around. The Rodian you knew only by reputation, and his reputation spoke for itself. With three of them surrounding you in a secluded alley, there was nowhere for you to go. You were going to have to fight your way out of this one, and fighting wasn’t exactly your forte. 

You smiled, hoping your fear wasn’t obvious in the lines of your face. “No need to follow little old me all the way out here just to get me alone.”

Your eyes tracked the walls of the alley and the entryway behind them. 

“There’s nowhere to run, little one,” Ker Hanna threatened as he approached you. 

But he was wrong. You turned swiftly on your heel and began to sprint up the alley. When one of the three behind you merely laughed, your heart sank. They knew something you didn’t. Sure enough, just as you began to round the next corner, you ran right into the square chest of the bounty hunter Slorn. Human but built like a Wookie. 

“No.” You struggled but it was no use. This one could probably lift a speeder. Grip achingly tight around your arms, he carried you back into the alleyway and dumped you unceremoniously onto the ground. All four surrounded you now. You moved to grab your blaster but the Rodian kicked it from your grip, pain sparking in your fingers.

“A four way?” You teased finally, not letting them see just how terrified you were. “Kinky but I’ll take it.”

Doln kicked you hard in the ribs. You couldn’t help the yelp of pain that came out of you then.

Ker Hanna dropped to a squat in front of you. He took your face in his left hand, holding you tight as you tried to escape his grip. “Lucky for you, they want you alive. But they didn’t say we couldn’t mess you up a bit.” 

You glared up at him and just as he was taking his hand away, you bit him. Hard. He screamed in pain now, then punched you hard in the jaw with his other hand. You fell slackly to the side.

“It really took four of you brainless kungs to find me?” You dared.

Then they were on you and their hits and kicks against you blotted out the noises of your cries of pain, when suddenly-

Slorn, who’d just been about to club you with the end of his blaster, fell to the ground with a scream of both pain and surprise. Blaster fire filled the air. Doln fell to the floor beside you but didn’t move again. You scrambled away toward the wall. The Rodian had the same idea but was shot as he was tripping over you. You were sure he wasn’t dead though.

Ker Hanna, the smartest of the bunch, managed to get around the corner before getting hit. You saw him aiming shots behind you at whoever your savior was.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Ker Hanna gasped. “The very Mandalorian we were looking for.” Ker Hanna ducked behind the wall when another blaster shot traveled his way. 

You held your breath. It wasn’t possible. You rolled onto your stomach where you lay on the ground to see him. Slorn had recovered and was now fighting fist to fist with the Mandalorian. You flinched when Slorn slugged him directly in the stomach. 

Breathing heavily, you scrambled for shelter between the wooden crates lining the alleyway. 

“What is a wanted Mandalorian doing traversing with a low level thief?” You heard Ker Hanna shout across the way. Wanted? Ker Hanna aimed blaster fire at the Mandalorian who was busy getting slammed onto the ground by Slorn. Had he not charged his vambraces? Why wasn’t he using them? 

Luckily, the beskar took the blaster shots from Ker Hanna, who wasn’t letting up. You had to help. Before they hurt him. Or worse.

You groaned. Where was your blaster? There. Not three feet from where you hid. You sprung out of your hiding spot, landing nearly flat on your face, but then the blaster was in your hand and-

“Not so fast, little one,” Ker Hanna was saying and before you could pull your trigger he was shooting his blaster at you. Then-

The Mandalorian grabbed you unceremoniously by the scruff of your tunic and tossed you away and toward the crates as if you weighed little more than a camtono. You cried out, thinking Ker Hanna’s blaster had done the job, but the Mandlorian’s beskar took the shots that would have ended your life. Then the Mandalorian aimed the end of his vambrace at Ker Hanna who retreated just as the fire reached him. The coward Twi’lek was fleeing.

Suddenly, Slorn was kicking you from behind. The Mandalorian heard your cry of pain and turned in a blur. The stream of fire stopped, and he was raising his arms to take Slorn’s next hit. But you hadn’t dropped your blaster. Your shot hit Slorn in the knee. Taking advantage of the split second you’d provided, the Mandalorian slung his rifle from around his shoulder and electro shocked Slorn. The blast carried him across the alley where he fell into a metal crate. His body lay slack in the dent he made.

You fought to catch your breath, and your eyes found the visor of the Mandalorian from the ground. He stared at you for a second. Then he was charging towards you and sweeping you off the ground. 

“Are you alright?” His voice was shaky with urgency. He inspected your face intensely running his fingers lightly over your aching jaw. You stared dumbstruck at his visor as he questioned your well-being when he’d been the one hit with no less than twenty blaster shots. He was running his fingers up and down your arms, over your torso, searching desperately. His touch was more gentle than ever. “Are you alright?” He asked again, more persistent this time when you didn’t answer. His gloved hands cupped your face shakily as he studied you closely.

At that moment, everything came together. He’d saved you. He’d protected you. Now he was worried about you. Unimaginable warmth pooled your insides spreading out to all the parts of your body. 

You pushed him away as roughly as you could, which wasn’t saying much, but he hadn’t been expecting it and took a step back to steady himself. His visor studied you as he went still.

“I didn’t need your help.” You pushed him again, this time he barely moved. You assaulted him now with your hands, forgetting quite intentionally just how scared you had been not one minute before at what you thought had been his impending death at the hands of _your_ hunters. “You always have to be a hero, don’t you, Mandalorian?” You snarled.

You knew you looked completely crazy. Pushing and shoving at, for all intents and purposes, your savior. You could explain why, but you didn’t want to explore that part of your psyche under any circumstances. His intervention in your capture had nearly resulted in his death. For _you_. A _thief_. A _low level_ thief, as Ker Hanna had so eloquently put it. And he’d risked his entire well-being...for you? Just moments ago, it had been only time and distance, the shortest measures of them, that had saved his life. One blaster shot too far to the left, one second too early or too late, and he’d have been dead. You shoved against his chest again. “Why?” 

His resulting silence was deafening and overwhelming all at once, his immobility striking. He let you continue your assault only for a few short moments, then he was growling and pushing you against the wall. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? They had you four to one. They were going to beat you to an inch of your life then take you in.” That was more than you’d ever heard his modulated voice say at one time.

“I would have gotten away.” You breathed heavily, unable to move. He had you pinned against the wall hard. You were both breathing against each other raggedly. “I always do.” You could feel his hard body, not covered by the beskar, pressing into you. He looked down past your face at the rest of you as your bodies melded together. 

Simultaneously and suddenly, you both began to touch each other desperately. This time not for fighting. Your hands found purchase in the clothes he wore beneath what looked like brand new, shiny beskar. You squeezed all the warm parts of his body you could find.

His hands traveled your body with urgency. Cradling you. Caressing you. His hands finally found your ass, squeezing one cheek and then the other, his fingers dangerously close to your center. You could feel his erection then against your middle and you moaned. The noises coming from beneath the helmet told you that he needed you as desperately as you needed him. Then he was dragging you back down the alley towards the hangar, one hand squeezing your waist where he held you. 

Faintly, you thought you heard Slorn stir in the alley before you two were away. You were breathing heavily now for another reason, your hand resting on the Mandalorian’s middle, just above his belt. He walked you towards his ship with a pace you had to struggle to keep up with, but he was half-carrying you, so intense was his need.

As you entered the hangar, you saw Ker Hanna’s telltale ship blasting out into the atmosphere. He would be after you again, and soon. But you couldn’t find a way to care, as the Mandalorian’s other hand had found your breast and was tweaking your nipple, pebble hard beneath your tunic. The few travelers in the hangar averted their eyes as you passed them, either scared of the Mandalorian or uncomfortable at the scene. Then, finally you were at the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian struggled to push the button on his vambrace that would open the ramp to his ship.

You were groping at his bulge, trying to get his pants open before the two of you even got on the ship.

You groaned in frustration. “Which button-” You were both so out of breath.

“Green. Triangle.” he uttered roughly, tightening his hold on your ass. You abandoned your grip on his cock and with shaking fingers tried to push the button he’d indicated. The ramp swept down with a hiss and he had to yank you backwards so it wouldn’t flatten you, but you barely noticed. Your hands were roaming his body wildly again, and at the same time he was backing you roughly up the ramp. He groaned hoarsely when you squeezed his arousal. 

Inside, he pushed you roughly against the wall to free his arm to close the ramp back up, but soon he was on you again, trailing his hands up and down your back, squeezing your bottom, grinding against you so aggressively you knew his brand new beskar would leave bruises everywhere he pushed against you.

You saw the sleep cot laid out behind him and meant to push him backwards. He barely moved half a step before he was assaulting your body again with his hands. Using the wall as leverage and the weight of your entire body, you pushed him backwards again. This time, understanding your intent, he staggered backwards and fell onto the cot, taking you with him. You straddled him, trying to catch your breath. His hands struggled with the clasp on your pants while you struggled with his belt. But you needed the friction not to stop. You grinded your pelvis hard against his, and he moaned loudly as if in pain, throwing himself back on the cot, letting you work yourself further up against him. 

Suddenly you couldn’t move, you were frozen completely. Your dumbstruck gaze managed to meet his visor before you were being thrown violently backwards against the wall. You crumpled to the ground, raising your arms in defense against an enemy you couldn’t see as you began to impossibly hover off the ground again.

The Mandalorian, still strewn backwards on the cot, had taken a beat too long to gather his senses.

“No!” He shouted roughly, his voice still laced with unrestrained lust. 

Bewildered, you raised your hands in defeat, not knowing why he was yelling at you as you hovered shakily above the ground. You were terrified

“No, she wasn’t hurting me!” You watched as the Mandalorian stumbled clumsily over to a tiny green form you hadn’t seen before. The baby- A baby? Had both hands raised in your direction, eyes closed in concentration. When the Mandalorian gently scooped the form up, you crumpled heavily to the ground again. You watched through your now tousled hair as the Mandalorian, in the softest, gentlest tone you’d ever heard him use, scolded what you could only describe as his kid. 

You sat up shakily, the pain of being tossed across an alley and a spaceship in the span of an hour just now setting in. 

The Mandalorian turned toward you. In his hesitation, you saw him struggling with whether he should tend to you, injured as you were, or the child, clearly his main priority.

“I’m fine, Mandalorian,” you managed through your shortness of breath.

Satisfied, he turned and ascended the ladder with the child cradled in one arm.

You sat straight up against the wall and rested your head between your knees. Were you hallucinating? What had just happened? You began to giggle then laugh outright, but you stifled the noises, not wanting to disturb whatever...parenting was going on above.

You used your tunic to wipe the sweat from your brow and arms. Frustrated sexually yet again. This time by gravity itself. You should just take care of the ache yourself at this point. And you seriously considered wanking yourself off, thinking of how satisfying it would be for the Mandalorian to find you that way. But the clanking of his boots on the ladder tore you from your stupor.

“You alright?” He asked in a rough, yet now subdued voice.

“Yeah, all good.” You coughed out, smiling in spite of yourself and the mess that you were on the floor of his vintage spaceship. You reached an arm out, and he took it, effortlessly pulling you to your feet. To your own chagrin, you faltered on one foot and he caught you under the elbows. Pleased, you began caressing the parts of his arms not covered in beskar.

Your thoughts had been solely on picking up where you’d left off, but the Mandalorian clearly had other ideas. He stopped your hands and cradled your face in his hands as gently as he’d cradled the child, the tenderness of his touch this time unexpectedly making your throat close up. You hadn’t cried or even nearly cried in years now. 

“I’m fine,” you croaked, but he ignored you. He seemed to be studying your pupils. Satisfied, he turned you around and inspected the back of your head, lifted your tunic and ran his fingers up and down your skin, prodding and pushing, looking for injuries. No doubt he was making up for trying to fuck you before ensuring no lasting injury had been done to you in the alley. Utterly flustered and tongue-tied, you quietly let him.

His touches were usually blazing, leaving fire on your skin in their wake. No one had ever touched you like that before, which was why you craved it so. With such intensity and passion. But this- this was different. You were sure no one had ever touched you like this before either, but the touches themselves brought you to an absolute standstill. You had to fight to keep tears from your eyes, to keep yourself from turning and flinging yourself into his embrace. What was this kriffing bounty hunter doing to you?

He turned you again and paused when you avoided looking at his visor. He brought his glove beneath your chin until you were looking up at him. You gave a watery smile. He tilted his head inquisitively at you but said nothing. 

“Didn’t take you for a daddy.” You teased, finally satisfied that your face and voice had gone back to normal from whatever confounding spell he’d briefly put on you.

He just grunted. His hand still held your face softly and his thumb rubbed just below your cut lip.

You liked this tender, caring Mandalorian far, far too much and it was making you feel things you simply didn’t want to feel, for the sake of your sanity. So you said the first thing you could think of that might set him off again.

“Maybe he’s what I’ll take from you next,” you lilted, expecting a glare you wouldn’t be able to see. Instead, a pause, then - 

His other hand shot out and took you by the throat, pinning you against the ship’s wall again for the second time in minutes. Like father like son, you supposed. Your feet lifted briefly from the ground and you choked for air, grasping at his fingers, seeing bright spots at the edge of your vision. 

“Don’t. Touch. Him.” He tightened his grip.

Tears of pain in your eyes this time, and you managed to choke out a, “Just. Kidding.”

He released you and you began to crumple again, but he caught you. His hands weren’t nearly so caring and tender now, and that suited you perfectly. You leaned against him, coughing. He seemed almost remorseful, his hands on your back now.

“Don’t joke about the kid like that.” One final rough warning. 

“Ok,” you gasped, your hands bunching in the fabric on his chest, as he steadied you further. “Won’t.” Your hands trailed down his arms and around to grasp his hands and bring them to your chest. 

You caught your breath finally, then looked up with a grin, your eyes still watery. 

“Do that again.” You brought his hands back up to your neck. “Daddy.” He looked at you in what could only be shock. 

But you seemed to have broken something in him once again. He gripped you around the neck again, nowhere near as tightly as before, but he pushed you roughly against the wall. 

“Harder,” you urged. He hesitated but squeezed tighter, not enough to your satisfaction, but you weren’t trying to scare him away. He groaned then, bringing a wicked smile to your lips. He liked it too. 

He brought his left hand up to your lips, pushing one finger through. You sucked the dusty rough leather of the glove. Then he was gliding that hand down to find the wetness under your waistband until- He stopped and you groaned, but he tightened his grip on your throat to shut you up.

“No,” he said, sliding his hand back out of your pants. He brought the glove back to your mouth, and you opened your lips to wet the finger further. But he swatted at your tongue, surprising you. “Teeth,” he muttered. And you understood. You looked at his helmet, wanting to question, but an order was an order. You gripped the leather between your teeth and he yanked his hand out.

Your mouth fell open as you studied his perfect, scarred, blistered hand. He started to lower his hand again, but you stopped him this time. He grunted. A question. Urgently, you took his hand with yours and led it to your mouth. His hips bucked in surprise and he rasped a noise out when you took two, then three of his fingers into your mouth and sucked. Warm. He was so warm. Sturdy. Rough. Beautiful. You grew wetter at the thought. 

He pulled his fingers out and caressed your face shortly, leaving wetness on you face, before plunging his hand finally down to your center. 

His wet warm fingers found your clit, and you cried out at the sensation. His grip on your throat, which had been loosening over the last couple minutes, grew tight again, silencing you. You urged him to move his hand from your throat to your mouth and he did, muffling your whimpers and cries as he brought you finally closer to release.

You stood on your toes, trying to urge him to enter you with those long warm fingers. He circled your clit once more then traced your lips down. His middle finger entered you first, and you screamed into his palm. He jolted your head back, reminding you to keep quiet. You didn’t care. All you could feel was him pumping his finger in and out of you. You tried to move your hips, get him deeper, but he was too tall. He leaned down, releasing your mouth and slowly a second finger joined the first. 

He quickened his pace, then brought his thumb back to your sensitive nub. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting your spot just perfectly. You began to seize up. He continued pumping his curled fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing precise circles on your clit. 

He leaned his helmet down against your forehead, and you could hear his labored breathing. You searched the mask of his helmet desperately for where you thought his eyes might be. You could feel them watching you intently; his movements were dazed and uneven. 

“Come for me.” He ordered in his no-nonsense gravelly tone. 

And an order was an order. You complied, your entire body trembling with your release, your mouth opening to let out a wild cry of deliverance, but he was ready. He covered your mouth fully with his gloved hand. His fingers inside of you continued pumping, helping you ride out your peak. You collapsed against him, trembling, not caring this was the weakest you’d ever been in the presence of another. He caught you with one arm, then removed his other from your pants. You cried out at the loss of his warmth inside you, but then he was cradling you in his arms. 

You both ended up sitting on the edge of the cot. He held your still quivering form. You grasped his hand, glistening with your juices. He moved to wipe his fingers on the cot but you caught his fingers with your mouth. He watched, awestruck, as you sucked your wet off his fingers one by one. 

“You’re so-” He started, his voice rough.

“No,” you interrupted whatever it was he was going to say. You didn’t want affection or terms of endearment. You wanted physical. Just physical. _A lie_. 

“Your turn.” You gasped, desperate to rid yourself of dangerous thoughts. You turned your attention finally back to his belt buckle, but his unrelenting fingers stopped you despite the hard evidence in his pants that he needed release too.

“I have to-” He struggled to speak as he wrapped you tightly in his embrace, more to stop you from handling him than anything. “The child.” He managed. 

You nodded. Spent, you could wait for round two. He absently caressed your face with the hand whose arm he had wrapped tightly around your neck. Finally he loosened his grip. 

“I’ll be back.” He stood. “We should leave soon.”

“We?” You interrupted, startled.

“You’ll have a bounty on you now you’ve been spotted with me-.”

“Kriff that,” you pushed away from his embrace, and he let you, clearly growing irritated with you once more. “I’ve always had some sort of bounty on me, and I’ve always been fine.” You reasoned, looking around for where you’d thrown your pack in your daze getting on the ship.

He sighed. He sounded so tired. For once, you wanted to give in. But kriff that. He couldn’t tell you where to go or what to do, unless it involved him being inside of you.

“It’s different.” He said simply, as if that settled the matter.

“Look, I don’t know what you did, or who’s looking for you, but…” You picked up your pack and slung it over your shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” you took tentative steps toward the ramp, looking for the corresponding green button on the ship that would get you out.

“They’ll kill you.” His voice deadpanned, and now he was standing. 

“Well, you should have thought about that before you pursued me halfway across the kriffing galaxy.” Now you knew you sounded ridiculous as you’d been the one pursuing him.

He sighed again when you pushed the right button on the panel. Nothing happened.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go next. Somewhere you’ll be safe. In the Outer Rim, maybe.” His voice didn’t allow for questioning.

You turned, glaring, your voice picking up its own brittle edge now. “You know I don’t like being told what to do, Mandalorian.”

He tilted his helmet at you, then turned to look at the spot where he’d just ordered you to fall apart in his hands. 

You laughed now, still weak from your orgasm not minutes ago and now at the realization of what was happening. “Fuck you, Mandalorian.” You said, all good cheer again. You finally put the pack down and leaned against the hull. 

He studied you for a moment, then- “I’m sorry. I won’t let them hurt you-.”

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted shortly, sitting down on the cool floor, refusing to let yourself think of this new overprotectiveness he had over you. 

He studied you a moment more before retrieving his discarded glove and climbing the ladder again.

The moment you heard the cockpit door hiss shut, you jumped into action. You pulled your hexdriver from your pack as quick as you could and got to work unscrewing the panel over the buttons controlling entry and exit to the ship. You’d managed to just recouple the two wires necessary to get the kriffing ramp open when-

Gloved hands abruptly grasped yours. Before you could blink, you were in binders again, but this time they were attached to the wall of the ship. As if you were some bounty of his.

“Kriff,” you cried in frustration, elbowing that stupid Mandalorian, but all that got you was a yelp when your joint met beskar. At the same time, you felt the planet fall from beneath you. Soon the Razor Crest would be in hyperspace and you’d be trapped. Your worst nightmare was no escape route. 

The Mandalorian steadied your elbow and you yanked it out of his grasp only to hiss at the pain.

He sighed and turned you toward him, though no rougher than necessary given you were fighting against him.

“Why do you always have to do things the hard way?” His modulated voice bordered amusement and exasperation.

You grimaced up at him. “Bad upbringing, I guess.” Then you eyed the binders. “Does this make me your sex toy?” You asked coyly.

He grunted hoarsely, clearly still holding himself over from the last several times you’d both started something only to not finish it. Well, other than you just minutes ago.

If you were trapped, you figured you might as well have fun with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy! I'm having a lot of fun writing this and am so happy at the reception this is getting! Can't wait for you all to see what I have planned for these two! <3


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip through hyperspace gives the Mandalorian a chance to get to know you better. And a chance for you to annoy him to no end. And on the planet Felucia, an ambush awaits. What happens when you start to care and the stakes are only getting higher?

The Mandalorian released you from the binders once the Razor Crest was safe in hyperspace. When you rubbed your wrists, he scoffed. “They were loose.” His modulated voice bit softly.

You grinned his way, all teeth. “You know I like them tight.”

He merely grunted and turned away. 

“So where am I being kidnapped away to?” You asked nonchalantly as you now threw yourself back on the cot you’d had the Mandalorian splayed across not too long ago.

He spared you a glance before rummaging around in his cache of weapons, neatly stacked behind retractable metal doors. 

You made a mental note of the cache itself. But more so of the fact that he was willingly showing it to you. This meant he trusted you? Another pool of warmth found its way to your stomach. This made you...happy? You didn’t like it.

He interrupted your confused train of thought. “I have a rendezvous with a contact on Felucia in the Outer Rim.”

You wrinkled your nose up at him as he approached you with something now in his hand. “Felucia? It’s hotter than stars there.” You complained.

He dropped to one knee in front of you. “And it’s safer than anywhere else right now.” His tone was chiding. 

You leaned back when he reached for your face, wary, then stopped when you saw what it was he was holding. He ran the cool bacta cloth across your cheeks. You closed your eyes in pleasure at the sensation, hoping the bacta would quickly heal the scrapes and cuts you’d amassed during the alleyway brawl.

“You’re not leaving me there.” You said in a tone made soft by the healing facial you were receiving at his impossibly gentle hands.

He didn’t respond immediately. You could hear his quiet breathing under the helmet and peeked one eye open to gaze at his visor. He said nothing, and you wondered if he was enjoying the sensation of cleaning and healing your face. The cloth made its way finally to your lips. You hissed when the cloth first made contact, but he slowed his movements and dabbed gently at the skin around your lips, placing cool kisses with it on your mouth.

“You’ll be safe there,” he said finally, his tone softer than yours, the usual growl of his modulated voice almost a whisper.

You opened your eyes fully finally and gazed at his visor again, then scoffed and smiled lopsidedly at him. “There’s no such thing as safe in this whole galaxy, Mandalorian.” 

He stared at you, tilting his helmet. Then he brought his free hand up to take your chin gently, tilting it one way then the other while studying your skin, searching for unattended wounds. Your throat tightened uncomfortably. For a man of so few words, he sure was great at communicating with mere touches. His movements willed you to believe you were wrong. Did he want you to believe you were safe with him? The worst thing was you wanted to believe it too, maybe already did to your own detriment.

You yanked your chin from his grasp and shot your hand out to take the bacta cloth from him. “What about you?” You asked almost eagerly, your eyes traversing his form. He’d taken substantially more hits than you had in the alley; there was no way he didn’t need healing too.

“I’m fine.” He murmured, standing finally.

“If you say so,” you responded in an almost sing-song tone of voice while using the bacta cloth to soothe the smaller cuts you’d gotten on your arms.

“You’ll stay on Felucia?” He inquired hopefully.

“Like hell,” you snorted, tossing the now dry bacta cloth at his boots.

He sighed heavily as you stretched your legs out, jostling his with yours. “What’s so important for you on Felucia anyway?”

He looked down at you almost sharply, hesitated, then-

A high-pitched squeal followed by a soft plop. You both turned swiftly towards the noise. The little green goblin had joined you now in the bay. You sat up slightly to study the child; the Mandalorian noted your movement.

“You’re the Mandalorian who’s wanted by the Imperials.” You said suddenly, your eyes darting from the child to the Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian tensed. 

You made note of this too. “Relax, Mandalorian, the Imperials are no friends of mine. And it’s been all over the radar.” You watched as the cooing child approached the Mandalorian’s leg.

“You stole him,” you grinned wickedly, your eyes shooting right to his visor. “And you call _me_ a petty thief.”

He grunted. Or chuckled. You couldn’t be sure from under the helmet. He leaned back against his ship then, fondly watching you as you watched the child waddle your way.

You averted your eyes from the child and studied the Mandalorian.

“It’s different,” he responded finally. “They were-.”

“You don’t have to explain why a child-.” You paused to eye the little green being again. “Any child. Would be better off with _you_ than the Imperials.”

The child had been reaching out for your knee when you shifted your knees around the corner of the cot. The child blinked his big, watery eyes at you and you looked decisively away.

The Mandalorian made a noise in the back of his throat. “What, you don’t like kids?”

You rolled your eyes up at the Mandalorian, still evading the kid who was now tugging on your tunic. “I don’t mind kids,” you retorted, “but this one,” you gestured at the child, “threw me across a spaceship,” you whispered almost conspiratorially. 

The child made an impatient coo when you shifted again away from him as he tried to clamber into your lap.

“I don’t speak monster,” you said, leaning further away.

The Mandalorian swept forward and picked the child up. “He thought he was protecting me,” the bounty hunter said almost defensively.

You smiled slyly up at him, crossing your ankles in front of you. “Do _you_ feel like he protected you?”

The Mandalorian just grunted again as he held the child in his arms. The child meanwhile was reaching his arms out towards you. 

“See,” the Mandalorian murmured, somewhat grumpily, “he’s trying to apologize.”

You rolled your eyes, looking away from them both. “He’ll have to do better than that.”

As if on cue, the ship rocked slightly in its journey through hyperspace. The kid, who had started struggling wildly in the Mandalorian’s arms, tumbled from his grip. You didn’t have a choice but to catch him softly in the crooks of your elbows, panic evident on your face.

“Cheat,” you smiled down at the baby, now gazing contentedly up at you.

A beat later, the Mandalorian, who had been watching the two of you carefully, turned and started up the ladder.

“Wait,” you exclaimed.

“Have to check what happened,” the Mandalorian threw over his shoulder at you, leaving you looking defeatedly but not distastefully down at the kid.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you said warningly.

The child just cooed contentedly and blew a small air bubble up through his lips.

You rolled your eyes and placed the child gingerly on the cot, then got up and threw yourself down against the wall of the spaceship, still facing the kid. He tilted his head curiously at you.

“What?” You tilted your head back at him quizzically. “You’re not going to win me over that easily, little monster. Or at all.”

The child gave a shriek of delight and then clambered off the cot. You sighed dejectedly as you got up to move away again from the curious babe’s grasping little hands.

That’s how the Mandalorian found you both, minutes later. The child had turned the little chase into a game, shrieking happily whenever he got close to you, shrieking unhappily when you evaded his grip. You supposed you’d turned it into a bit of a game too but you didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing it.

The Mandalorian sighed when he came down the ladder to find you attempting to close the small hatch for the bunk space where you were hiding, purportedly where the kid usually slept. 

Meanwhile said kid was reaching up towards you with gales of laughter. The Mandalorian’s appearance caught you off guard, and you tumbled backwards into the little bunk, the hatch falling down between you. From behind the hatch, you heard another muffled sigh and another shriek of laughter from the kid. Then the doors were whooshing open again. You stayed laying down, breathing heavily, holding back your laughter. 

A pause, then- “You want to stay in there?” His voice could be so gruff.

You smiled out at him but shook your head then reached your hand out for help. When he took your hand, you yanked him toward you. Not hard. But he didn’t resist and then half his body weight was falling down onto you. 

You sighed involuntarily, liking the feel of him over you. 

“You’re impossible.” He sighed again but his tone told you it was in good humor. The next thing you knew, the little child was climbing over his father’s back and plopping down next to your head, disgruntled at being left out.

You pushed suddenly at the Mandalorian’s chest, a sturdy blockade. “Get out, get out, get out,” you urged.

The child gurgled and cooed next to you both. The Mandalorian glanced at him. “What do you think? Should I let her out?” The child cooed again. “That’s what I thought,” the Mandalorian replied, pinning you down further.

He should have known by then you didn’t like being trapped. You brought your knee up and got him in the groin. He let out a whoosh of air from his helmet and fell backwards off you. The child was giggling as you slid out of the bunk and away from him. You were only two steps from the ladder up to the cockpit when a now familiar hand shot out and grasped you around the ankle, your own momentum betraying you and taking you down. The Mandalorian had recovered much faster than you’d expected. Then he was pulling you back and sliding himself over you, once again holding you down, pinning your knees safely between his.

“You’re losing your touch, thief.” He teased, his voice still slightly hoarse. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his visor. “If you catch me, it’s only because I want you to.”

“Is that right?” His voice had dropped a whole octave, and it made your cheeks warm. You thought on your words and realized, if they were true, you’d just told him a lot about your past few interactions. 

“Maybe I’m a thief _and_ a liar,” you breathed up at his visor, but the words didn’t sound true even to your own ears.

You were both flushed again. You could feel his chest moving against yours, both out of breath. It took so little time for him to get you to this state. 

A creaking sound from the bunk had the Mandalorian hopping rapidly to his feet from on top of you. You relaxed your breathing as you watched him check on the child. Leaning back you could see the child had fallen asleep. For a short touching second, you watched the Mandalorian watch the child. Tenderness was clear in his visor-hidden gaze. Then he was closing the metal hatch, hiding the child from your view. 

He turned to see you still on the floor, watching him. He tilted his helmet at you, then reached out a hand to help you up. You reached up as if to take it then twirled around, scrambled across the bay and up the ladder. You heard his heavy footfalls not far behind you. Out of breath, trying not to laugh, you made it into the cockpit and threw yourself to the side. He was mere seconds behind you. As the doors hissed open again, you launched yourself at him and ended up mounted on his back. He attempted to dislodge you, but you evaded his grip.

He gave up and sighed. “How long are you planning on staying up there?”

You grinned widely. “Only until you say I’m better at running away than you are at catching me.”

He let out a noise you could decipher as either a groan or a chuckle. Stupid helmet modulator. “I don’t like to lie.” Okay, so he’d laughed. 

You tightened your knees around his midsection. “Say it, or else.” You were too amused to sound threatening.

“Or else what?” He asked dryly. “You’re gonna ride me to death?”

That had caught you off guard. A beat later, you realized it had caught him off guard too. “That’s not what I meant-” He started.

You knocked on his helmet softly and slid down off him, smiling wickedly as he turned to look at you. “That can be arranged,” you teased.

But he caught your hands as they made their way down his front. 

You fake pouted. “Didn’t know being a daddy made you so boring.”

He tightened his grip on your hands. “That’s not what you were saying on Agamar.” His voice was rough.

You paused, smirking up at him again now. “You’re such a tease, Mandalorian.” You let your tone be as disappointed as possible. 

He just grunted then and released your hands before taking his seat in the pilot’s chair. You threw yourself frustratedly into the co-pilot seat. 

“What do you usually do in hyperspace anyway?” You asked, trying not to sound bored and failing as you studied your fingernails.

He didn’t answer, ignoring you as he adjusted levers on the console.

You grinned again. “That dirty, huh? Well, that’s not a bad idea.” You shifted around noisily, messing with the clasp of your trousers as if you were going to put your hand down your pants. 

He turned swiftly to stare at you, disbelieving. Then he relaxed when he saw you were not, in fact, touching yourself.

You laughed delightedly. “You _are_ dirty,” you accused. “You like to watch too, don’t you?”

“Shut. Up.” His voice was hoarse again, which only made you giddier. That and him clearly being peeved at you. But you decided to take pity and stop teasing.

You slumped down in the chair, crossing your outstretched legs, one over the other. “So why did you take the kid?”

The two of you sat in the cockpit and talked for hours. You’d never had a conversation where both parties were so careful as to not say any more than necessary, without revealing too much, that was still enjoyable. You revealed next to nothing about yourself. Instead, you both dumped on the Imperials. He briefly and curtly told you of saving the child, keeping details to a minimum but wasn’t able to hide his obvious affection for the strange little being. You admired his efforts out loud at the same time that you clowned him for the few mistakes he’d made on that journey.

“So you just like to pick up strays, huh?” You wondered out loud, snacking on galla seeds he’d found for you while rummaging through his provisions.

He stared at you while you chewed thoughtfully, studying the pile of seeds in your hand and pondering which one to eat next. You realized he hadn’t responded and looked up at him. He turned away, almost as if you’d caught him… “What?” You asked defensively, rubbing at your face. “Do I have something-”

“No,” he was too quick to answer, and you wondered what it was he’d been thinking as he watched you, seemingly deep in thought. But you let it go because as far as you were concerned, things had already gotten too deep between you and you didn’t intend to let it go any further.

“I just don’t like injustice,” he said finally. 

“Way to be vague,” you chuckled, then almost choked on a seed.

He turned to eye you disdainfully, but you weren’t fazed.

“Seems more like you like to protect the innocent and weak.” You spoke through coughs. 

He swiveled again in his seat. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, finally recovered from the wayward seed. “It’s just maybe you have a complex.”

He stared at you again for a second too long, but this time he sounded slightly bothered. “What, you mean a complex like running away when there’s nothing to run from?”

You pursed your lips at him. “Go to hell, Mandalorian.”

“You first, thief.” He quipped back immediately, making you throw your head back in a laugh. When you relaxed, you watched his visor carefully.

He nodded his head at you in question.

“You’re something else, Mandalorian.”

He started to respond, but you interrupted him. You didn’t need a compliment he didn’t really mean. You were a low-level petty thief. That was all.

“I’m taking your cot,” you said suddenly, standing and stretching. Your tunic rode up over your stomach and somehow you knew he was studying the patch of revealed skin. “Unless you want to join me?” You twiddled your eyebrows suggestively his way.

He grunted and turned away. 

“So eloquent,” you muttered as you slipped back through the cockpit doors. 

You made yourself comfortable underneath the warm, if scratchy blanket on the cot and breathed in his now so familiar smell deeply. You were exhausted, but the smell was so comforting, you were sure it helped you fall asleep faster.

This time you dreamed of the chase, the constant running, never standing still. Not since your mother- You’d learned to like it. In your own way. Because what else was there? The dream made you restless and sad and the slightest bit scared. If there was no end to the running, then what was there? An endless void of it? The sensations of the dream startled you awake. Cold sweat adorned your brow. 

You sat up to see the Mandalorian laying on the ground just a ways from the cot and studied him where he lay.

He shifted and you started, realizing now _you’d_ been caught staring. “Did I wake you?” He sat up slightly, sounding concerned.

You shook your head but for once, no words left your mouth.

He sat up all the way now. “What’s wrong?” Now he was definitely concerned.

You shook your head again, willing yourself to speak. “Nothing.” But your tone was off. “Not used to such an uncomfortable block,” you attempted a joke, hitting the sleeping pad with your fingers. 

He studied you.

“Just come here.” You blurted finally, sliding over and lifting the blanket.

He looked at the closed bunk where the child still slept.

You rolled your eyes. “I promise to be good.” You held up your right hand mockingly in a promise.

He hesitated for another moment, then slowly got up and wandered over to the cot. There was just enough space for him. He lay down facing you and you threw half the blanket haphazardly over him. It wasn’t until then that you realized he’d taken off the beskar. It was so dim in the bay. But everywhere he pressed up against you was warm, unlike the cold stiffness of his armor.

Without being handsy, you cuddled into the warmth. The spaceship was cold, too cold for a one blanket type of deal. He let you, but lay unmoving, stiff.

“Relax, Mandalorian. I just want to sleep.” He started to relax. “For now.” You added, smiling at his visor. 

A beat. Then he sighed. But relaxed all the same. His warmth was intoxicating. You felt yourself growing drowsy again. Somehow you knew the dreams that bothered you most would not be back. Not this time. 

“What is he?” You asked softly, your eyelashes fighting sleep against his visor.

He contemplated the question. “I’m not sure. I’m trying to find his people.”

“That’s why...Felucia?” You asked, sleepiness heavy in your tone.

He nodded his helmet once.

“I think he may have already found his people.” You said drowsily, sure. Your eyes had lost the fight and were tightly closed now.

As you fell back into slumber, you felt a light, warm hand making its way over your face and through your hair over and over again. That lulled you into the warmest, deepest sleep you’d had in the longest time. If you dreamt, it was only of warmth and security.

When you finally woke up again, you were disoriented for only a second. The heavy body resting perfectly in sync against yours giving you such a sense of safety… But was that…? 

Something hard was poking your leg. You shifted and heard a sleepy moan from under the helmet. That _was_. 

It was the moan more than the erection that turned you on. You slid your hand down his front. He brought his hands up to grip yours tightly, lifting his head up from the pillow to look at you in the dim light.

You looked straight at him and shifted your hips again into his hardness. His resolve weakened; he let go of your hand and you found your way into his pants again finally. 

He gasped under the helmet when your warm hand encircled his hard length.

You bit back your own moan now, feeling the way his dick pulsed in your hand. You felt him throw his head back onto the pillow when you began to run your grip up and down his length. Your breaths grew shorter as you pumped his member up and down. Modulated grunts and gasps left his lips from behind the helmet. You trailed your fingers up his hard, silky shaft until your thumb found his leaking head. His hips jerked up, a grunt of surprise leaving his mouth. You spread his precum around the tip wishing again you could taste it but unwilling to make any movement that would break the spell that had come over him to allow you to do this. You ran your palm over the head and his hips jerked upwards again.

Then you were gripping him in your hand and pumping up and down the impossibly long length of him. His cock pulsated in your palm and his breathing became ragged, more uneven. He was close. Cycles of teasing had brought him to this point, falling apart in your hand. You quickened your pace, alternating between squeezing and twisting gently. You really did wish you were using your mouth. 

You felt his hips jerk again, then he was using his own hand to pull his pants down slightly, giving you easier access to his cock. You kept your eyes trained on his helmet, knowing it was safest not to look down at his now bare skin. But free of the pants, you made quick work, running your hand faster up and down his length, pausing frequently to swipe at his wet tip. Then-

He grunted, clearly trying to stay quiet, but his hips were thrusting upwards, until suddenly- Hot, wet liquid spurted onto your arm and pooled into your hand. Your hand rode him through his orgasm as he moaned and grunted quietly, trying to muffle the sounds. 

When he was done, you pulled his pants back up over his hips for him without looking. He was spent, splayed carelessly next to you on the cot. You tossed the blanket back over his form and cuddled back into his side, feeling as satisfied as he must. It wasn’t exactly all that you wanted, but it was a start. The next time you could get him anywhere alone...you wanted to seal the deal. You fell asleep at his side fantasizing about finally having him inside you.

By the next time you woke up, the Mandalorian was landing the Razor Crest on Felucia, then tucking the babe back into his little bunk as he prepared to deboard.

“What are you doing?” He asked, watching you holster your blaster.

You looked at him like he was stupid, which clearly, he was. “Coming with you.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing.

He scoffed. “The last thing I need to worry about is a thief running off in the middle of my meeting with an already skittish contact.”

Now you scoffed, starting to get slightly peeved. “Run off? The last thing _I_ need is to get abandoned on some boiling, backwater planet with no ship. Besides, if that’s what you’re worried about, you definitely want to take me with you.” You laughed now. “Calling me a thief and you’re going to basically leave me in possession of your ship?”

He stared at you, almost as if daring you to mean that. It’s not that you _meant_ it. But you hadn’t gotten kidnapped and come all this way just to stay in the ship for a whole other cycle or however long it was going to take him to conduct business. 

But caution won over less-worrisome caution, and he relented. “Just be quiet and let me do the talking.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you promised as you both headed down the ramp. “Where is this meet up at anyway?”

“Cantina.” The Mandalorian said gruffly as he shut the ship securely.

“Perfect,” you grinned. He only sighed.

He let you enter the cantina ahead of him, which you thought was a good idea. Let him draw all the attention once you were safely to the bar. You’d had a hell of a cycle and this was the first opportunity you’d gotten to stop for a drink. Well, he was supposed to be meeting someone, but you _needed_ a drink. 

You skipped ahead to the bar before the Mandalorian could stop you. “One tihaar,” you breathed to the droid behind the counter.

You heard a sigh from behind you, no louder than usual, but maybe more pronounced in the large space full of strangers.

The droid deposited the drink in front of you mechanically. “He’s got this,” you threw your hair over your shoulder, pointing your chin at the Mandalorian before twirling to go find the contact.

Another sigh. But you heard the clink of the credits as they hit the bar. Then his heavy footsteps followed you to the booth in the far back of the bar.

A humanoid sat there, seemingly waiting. Haughty and arrogant. But very handsome. Your smile went crooked and you swayed your hips up to the table. This was going to be fun.

“You must be Argo.” You eyed him smoothly, taking a sip of your drink and licking the edge of the cup. On the short hike from the ship to the cantina, the Mandalorian had provided you with very vague information as to the contact in a clipped tone.

The man smiled back smugly and held out a heavily ringed finger as he stood. You took his hand and rather than shake yours, he squeezed it. “What a lovely surprise,” he purred, looking you up and down.

The Mandalorian reached the table now and stepped just to your side so he was towering over both you and Argo. More purposefully intimidating than usual. You were elated. You hadn’t been wrong. 

“Let’s get to it.” He said curtly, shortly. There was a definite frown somewhere in that helmet.

You hid your smirk. “That’s just what I was thinking,” you raised your eyebrows at Argo teasingly, making sure the Mandalorian saw you do so. 

The Mandalorian shifted, then he was intentionally bumping into you as he went to sit so that you were jostled away from Argo and had to release his hand. You skipped around the Mandalorian to slide into the booth so you were now sitting between the Mandalorian and Argo. If helmets had faces...you were sure the Mandalorian was fuming.

Argo on the other hand looked more interested in the matter at hand than he probably would have been otherwise. 

Two drinks into the conversation, it was clear Argo had taken your bait (meant only to irritate the Mandalorian) much too far. He was much too interested in finding out where _you’d_ be headed next and far too little interested in providing the Mandalorian with the promised information. Meanwhile the Mandalorian’s temper was growing shorter.

Then Argo was gripping your thigh tightly with one hand. He was daring the Mandalorian. You panicked. You hadn’t thought it was going to go this far; Argo wasn’t supposed to have been this stupid. Who would be dumb enough to mess with a Mandalorian?

Oh, that’s right. _You_. You flinched.

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilted down toward the table. For a beat. Then-

The Mandalorian’s blaster came up over the edge of the table; clearly he’d had one hand ready on it the whole time.

“Get your hand off her.” 

The Mandalorian had only ever sounded this angry once before. When you’d joked about taking the child. The man’s grip on your leg loosened. But if he had hackles, they would all be raised right now.

“Put that blaster away, Mando.” The man’s attempt to sound dangerous next to the Mandalorian’s was almost sad. 

You almost felt bad for him. Almost. Because now he was reaching for his blaster. You smashed your empty cup in his face and heard something crack. The man screeched, one hand going to his nose, the other still grappling for his blaster. You reacted instinctively and brought your elbow up, then down into his groin.

Then the Mandalorian was yanking the man roughly out of the booth. 

Shakily, you stood and dropped some credits onto the table, smiled cheekily toward the other patrons and followed to the rear where the Mandalorian was just tossing Argo out the back door.

“Where is Krawn?” You heard another crunch and figured it was the Mandalorian’s boot connecting with some unfortunate part of Argo’s body. Krawn, the man who could take the Mandalorian to the child’s people...the only information the Mandalorian had managed to get out of the scoundrel at the table.

You skipped through the door to see pretty much what you’d expected. The Mandalorian had his boot at Argo’s throat. Argo was struggling to escape the Mandalorian’s grasp.

The Mandalorian didn’t look at you when he spoke. “Why do you always have to cause so much trouble?”

You knew he wasn’t talking to Argo. It stung a little, but you shrugged as you sidled up next to him. “A girl can’t have a little fun?” He glared sideways at you, and you kicked Argo in the side. Argo yelped. “He was never going to give you the information, Mandalorian.” You kicked Argo again, this time in the right place, and a small device fell out of Argo’s side pocket. 

The Mandalorian swore, then he was taking his boot off Argo’s neck to smash the tracking device. 

Argo moved, attempting to stand and reach his blaster near the rear door of the cantina. “Not so fast.” You kicked him in the groin but though he screamed in pain, he grabbed your leg, taking you down with him. You’d never said you were good at this.

The Mandalorian...well, snarled. Then he was picking up Argo detangling him from around you and tossing him against the wall. Rough hands picked you up and set you sturdily back on the ground. “Can’t keep out of trouble, can you?” He said almost fondly, then he was turning back to Argo, his blaster pointed. 

“Tell us what we need to know.” The Mandalorian’s tone left no room for negotiation.

Still, Argo glared up at him then spat near the Mandalorian’s boot.

“He’s stalling.” You said urgently. He was hoping the Imperials would arrive before the Mandalorian could get anything out of him. 

The Mandalorian looked at you, then back toward where the Razor Crest waited for the two of you. He seemed to make a decision then. You knew he had no choice.

The first blaster shot took Argo in the shoulder, only an inch from a major artery. The man screamed out. You flinched. But the Mandalorian was only doing what was necessary.

“The next one goes in your head.” The Mandalorian promised. 

The man swallowed heavily, tears streaming down his face in pain. He thought about it, then spoke. “Lothal,” he spat again.

The Mandalorian paused, aiming the blaster at Argo.

“It’s Lothal, I swear,” the man yelled. “The Dinar settlement.”

The Mandalorian studied him, then lowered the blaster. “Get back to the ship.” He said in a low voice you were sure Argo hadn’t heard. You hesitated. In that moment, the Mandalorian had his sights on you, but you could see Argo out of your peripheral vision. He’d had another blaster. Just as he brought it up, aimed at the Mandalorian, you released a shot from yours. 

The Mandalorian flinched, aiming the blaster in his hand rapidly at Argo. Who was now dead, the blaster clasped in his hand, never fired.

The Mandalorian looked at you. Your eyes were wide, disbelieving. “He was about to shoot you.” You said in a shaky voice, lowering your blaster now. It seemed irrelevant. Although, deep down, you’d known the Mandalorian was going to have to end Argo one way or another. To protect himself. To protect the child. To protect you. He was sending you to the ship to spare you. Instead-

“You’ve never done that before.” He murmured softly. 

“Petty thief,” you reminded him in a low voice, still unbelieving.

The Mandalorian paused for a second, started to bring his hand up, then stopped at a noise. You’d heard it too. Still far in the distance. But engines. Loud. Lots of them. 

“We have to go,” he said urgently. Trembling, you holstered your blaster and followed the Mandalorian’s quick pace back towards the ship. If you had time, it was very little to get out of there before the Imperials were swooping in on you.

If only you’d seen the tracking beacon sooner… But you hadn’t seen it until Argo had opened his jacket to get his blaster. It wasn’t your fault. Nor the Mandalorian’s. The trap had been set cleverly. Now, all that mattered was getting back to the ship. Protecting the child. The thoughts were rapid fire as you ran behind the Mandalorian toward the ship. You almost stopped in your tracks when your conscious self realized what you’d been thinking. When had this become just about his mission? But nothing in you came up to contradict anything you’d just thought. Somehow, somewhere, between Agamar and here on Felucia, the Mandalorian and his kid had suckered you into acting on their behalf. And you were all in.

You were falling behind. The Mandalorian’s strides were much longer than yours. When he slowed to wait for you to catch up, you yelled at him to keep going, though you heard the running footsteps somewhere behind you. It had to be troopers, but you weren’t going to look to find out. Still, he pulled you along behind him by your elbow. The Razor Crest was within your view now. But-

The shots started and you both had to tumble out of the way behind another ship to avoid the blaster fire. 

“Kriff,” you cursed. The Mandalorian had tackled you to the side with him and was blocking your body with his.

When there was a pause in the blaster fire, you pushed him away. “The kid!” You yelled over the blaster fire. “We have to protect the kid!”

He stared at you for one long moment, too long considering the circumstances and you saw something change in his demeanor. Then he was nodding and turning to lead you around the other ships. You followed at first but you had a decision to make. If you kept in this direction, eventually they would find out where you were headed, and then the Razor Crest and the kid were in danger of being targeted. The Mandalorian was distracted with creating a route for you both to follow. You took one last look at him before you darted around and back the way you’d come.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” You muttered under your breath at yourself as you made your most daring move yet. But if you calculated everything right, the Mandalorian and his kid at least would get away. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” You grunted at yourself as you ran. It was time to show the bucketheads you were right there. By now, the Mandalorian had realized you weren’t behind him. His sense of honor would carry him to the ship, no matter how much any part of him would want to circle back around to help you.

The blaster fire followed you as you ran back toward the village. This was the absolute most idiotic thing you had ever done. You had no plan to get away other than running. Running had been the thing you’d been best at your entire life. You’d never had to run from this many, but if your lifelong practice in running wasn’t enough, it never would have been. Your lungs burned as you ducked and ran. But the real spark within you came when you heard the telltale engines of the Razor Crest, heard it blasting off. The stupidest smile came to your lips then. Who smiled while being chased? Well, you reminded yourself. You always had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely gaining substance as I go, even though it was only meant to be 75% smut, 25% fluff originally, but as I go I can't help but give reader a way more fleshed out backstory. May end up being more than the original 5 chapters. Hope you all like, please let me know if there's something that's not working or something you'd like to see!


	4. Chapter 4

There was no way out. You were ensconced in the village, all the doors closed and locked to you. There would be no harbor for you in the homes of those you’d put in danger in the first place. There was no sewage system here either. At least not one accessible from the street. They would be on you any second. And it didn’t seem like their orders were to take you in alive this time. 

“Stop, scum.” A lone trooper blocking the exit to the street just ahead of you. You froze in place. There was nowhere to run anymore. And being captured alive had never been an option. It wasn’t that you’d willingly give up information on the Mandalorian or the kid. But given what you now knew about the kid’s powers and the stories your mother had told you about those types of powers, you knew there were ways to get information that didn’t involve the teller’s permission.

You turned on your toes, ready to run. The trooper’s finger closed in on the trigger. Just then, blaster fire rained down from above, taking the trooper all over his armor and the remainder of the trooper’s squad just behind him.

In awe, you gazed up at the sky to see a sight you’d never imagined you’d ever see, if only because you hadn’t known it was possible. The Mandalorian, curse him, had come back. But he was flying? The flames emanating from behind him told you that he had on some type of jet device keeping him afloat. He danced in and among the sky as he shot. The danger was he was now being shot at. He dropped straight down now, so quickly you let out a hoarse scream, but he pulled out at the last second and dropped gently to the ground in front of you.

“Let’s go.” His voice was rough, rougher than you’d ever heard it. Not mad. Just- The saddest you’d ever heard it. And you realized, as you ran into his grasp, that _you’d_ caused that. Bizarrely you felt guilty for causing him pain, despite the fact that you’d done it to save him. And the baby.

“Stealing this next,” you grunted as you wrapped your arms tight around his neck, careful not to jostle the pack on his back that allowed him to fly. You were sure he chuckled in response under his helmet. You readied yourself mentally for what was about to happen. 

Then, the next squad of troopers rounded the corner. Behind the Mandalorian. “No,” you breathed at the same moment that you used the leverage you had around his neck to twist him around in place. The shots were fired just the moment before the Mandalorian kicked off the ground. Your cries of pain were muffled by the strong resistance of wind as the Mandalorian sped straight up into the sky. 

Within seconds, the two of you were blasting through the air far beyond the reach of the troopers’ blasters. But you were beginning to lose consciousness, and your arms were beginning to slip from their grip around his neck. The Mandalorian cursed hoarsely and wrapped one arm tightly around you, holding you to him just as the Razor Crest came into view where it idled high above the world. In your state of daze, you could tell the Mandalorian was panicked, but he kept calm long enough to open the ramp to the ship and slow down rapidly so he could land you both awkwardly in the bay of the ship.

You cried out when you hit the ground.

The Mandalorian seemed frozen in place when he saw your blood. But one of you had to remember what was at stake.

“The TIE fighters,” you gasped through your pain. 

His helmet stared at you for one more too-long moment, then he was sprinting to the ladder and practically flying up it to the cockpit. The ship soared up further into the sky and you knew he’d have the Razor Crest in hyperspace within seconds. You were safe. Or at least he was. And the kid. 

_The kid_. You opened your eyes; you had been dozing off. As if he’d sensed your thoughts, the child had poked his head out of the bunk where the Mandalorian insisted he stay to keep him safe. You closed your eyes, fighting the loss of consciousness coming over you. When you opened your eyes again, the kid was just in front of you, his large bright eyes shiny with curiosity. You smiled up at him reassuringly. “Hey, monster.” You teased, closing your eyes again.

You gasped as you lost consciousness when you felt tiny, clammy hands touching your injuries. But then you were out.

*********

When you awoke again, you felt light, weightless. Drugged. He’d drugged you. You should’ve felt pain. You should’ve been _dead_. The lights in the bay overhead were dimmed and you stared blearily at the ceiling, trying to make out the shapes in the metal above. There was no denying you were out of it. You felt numb, almost blissful. You tried to move but only succeeded in rolling slightly over to the left. 

A rustling from across the bay suddenly. Then the Mandalorian was at your side, kneeling next to the cot. His ungloved hands hovered over you.

“Are you alright?”

The dim lights reflected off the shine of his helmet and your eyes widened. You smiled and reached one hand up to touch his helmet. He didn’t pull back. “My angel.” You whispered in a shaky tone of voice. “You’re glowing.”

The Mandalorian sighed with relief. You didn’t know what there was to be relieved about. Clearly he was surrounded by some unnatural light. He ought to take care of that. Maybe you’d both been drugged.

You watched his hand dizzily as it came up to your forehead. His blazing palm covered your cool skin. “Mmm,” you moaned appreciatively.

“I have something for you,” he said in a low voice.

Your eyelashes fluttered open and you smiled up at him crookedly. “I know what you have for me, Mandalorian.” You teased.

He half scoffed, half chuckled. “Even while injured and drugged?” His voice was so amused as he ran a finger down your nose and pinched your nostrils gently between two fingers.

You mimed biting his fingers as he drew them away. “Always.” You whispered, sticking your tongue out at him.

He tilted his helmet down at you, clearly amused by your antics, hyper even in this state. Then he was reaching into the clothing that covered his chest and drawing something out carefully.

“Oh.” You gasped at the sight of your mother’s necklace in his hand. 

“I’m sorry I took this,” he was saying. “If I had known what it meant to you…” He trailed off as he placed it softly in your outstretched hand.

Your consciousness grew even fuzzier. In your mind’s eye, you saw your mother, smiling sweetly. Then it was as if she was there beside him. You shook your head then continued staring at a point past the Mandalorian’s shoulder. But his fingertip on your chin brought you back, and the vision of your mother dissipated until all that was left was her necklace clutched tightly between your fingers.

You smiled dazzlingly up at the Mandalorian. “Thank you.”

He seemed taken aback for a moment, but then his fingertip trailed up your face, past your eyelashes and came to rest just in the middle of your forehead. He traced your nose down again watching you as you studied the necklace fondly.

“Who was your mother?” He asked cautiously, letting his finger trail down to your lips now. 

You were too out of it to realize that this was delving into territory you never would have touched if you were sober.

“A rebel.” You laughed. It was a laugh he’d never heard out of you before. Not bitter or cynical. Or horny. It was warm and it sounded like home.

He found himself grinning beneath the helmet along with you. “And what are you?” He couldn’t help himself with you in this state, so seemingly innocent and sweet. Not so much a different person, as perhaps more yourself, more at ease.

Your smile grew playful again. “A rebel.”

You sat up with some difficulty to kiss his helmet, and he let you, his hand supporting your neck.

“Yes. You are.” He said in his gruff, unapproving yet somehow affectionate voice.

You forgot yourself again, cradled as you were in his arms, and continued. “She was a rebel. She fought the Empire. She-.” Here, your voice faltered as you remembered all the details. “She died.” Your voice grew weak.

Absently, you’d taken his hand and your grip on him tightened as you spoke. He squeezed your hand comfortingly. “I’m sorry.” He told you.

Your eyes, previously out of focus, finally focused on him. Whatever he had drugged you with was really doing a number on your brain. But you couldn’t seem to stop talking. You smiled gently up at him now, more gently than he’d ever seen you smile before, and it made his heart clench. Only because he was usually so uncertain around you; you always had some sort of guard up, after all. Now was the only time he thought he’d seen you this carefree, this open.

“It’s alright, Mandalorian.” You turned his hand over in your yours, and traced soft lines over his palm, so often hidden from your gaze, that it was always such a pleasure to see with your own eyes. Even if you hardly ever admitted it to yourself. You really needed to ask the Mandalorian what drugs he’d given you; you could stand to take them more often.

“I’ve been trying to avenge her ever since,” you said softly, absently again as you studied his palm concentratedly. _Never_. You _never_ would have revealed any of this sober. You never had before. Had never told anyone what it was exactly that you did or why.

The Mandalorian was too curious for his own good. Even as he spoke, he knew he shouldn’t, knew he was taking advantage of your state, to get you to open up. In his own defense, he thought it was good for you to open up like this. “What do you mean?” He asked haltingly, almost as if he wanted to stop himself from speaking.

You reached forward, the effort costing you energy and pulled at his other arm until you were grasping his other hand in yours as well.

“I’ve been stealing from the Empire since I was twelve years old.” You admitted conspiratorially into the hollow space you’d formed over your mouth between his two hands.

He shifted in place, but you missed the movement and the way it signaled his understanding that you’d lost your mother at twelve and that you’d been alone ever since. 

“Petty theft.” You squeezed his hands and giggled. “I did what I could to hurt them.” Your face grew somewhat forlorn. “It wasn’t much at first. Small things, here and there. But I started to learn what it took to really make a dent. It was hard…” You trailed off studying the creases in his fingers as if they were the most interesting things in the world. “On my own.” You supplied.

He was watching you intently, every nerve of his on end, tensing further with every passing second at each little bit you revealed about yourself. His face must have been one of despair beneath the helmet as you unwittingly peeled back your layers carelessly one by one to him. He wanted to stop you, knew that sober you would want him to. But he couldn’t. He wanted to know you so badly. More, every moment that you spoke.

“I never knew my father. He left my mother before I was born..” You watched him watch you. Your eyes sought out the sleeping place of the child. Your gaze was tender. “To see you with him…” You trailed off, somewhat choked. “It’s...you took him in. When my mother...I had no one. No one took _me_ in. So...I did what I could. Then I got older...and I did worse, stole more valuable things, and they started coming after me.” 

Silence grew around you and in the spaces between you two, piercing in a way loudness could never be. By the flex of his fingers, the way in which he leaned into you, you felt a space being filled you’d always thought would be empty. It was simultaneously overwhelming and not enough all at the same time. But you were too drugged to comprehend your own emotions.

“But I learned to run.” You finally filled the silence in again, the silence in which you missed his evolving emotions about you, a silence that for you was peaceful and warm. This was the longest you’d consciously held his hands, even if you were a bit out of it. “I learned to like it.” You grinned wildly up at him, and he pulled one hand gently out of your grasp to smooth your hair away from your face comfortingly. You reveled in the feeling, shutting your eyes briefly to enjoy the sensation.

“You’re not a thief,” he said gruffly, his voice emotional in a way you’d never heard it.

You struggled to open your eyes, fighting the exhaustion that was once again taking over you. “Yes I am.” You said somewhat indignantly.

“You’re a hero,” he clarified, dragging his knuckles over your cheekbones gently. “Your mother would be proud.”

Your throat grew tight, and you closed your eyes so he couldn’t see your tears forming. Even drugged, you knew you couldn’t abide him, _anyone_ , seeing your vulnerabilities.

Somehow he must have known. He leaned over, placing your arms around his neck and resting his heavy beskar helmet on the cot next to your head, in a strange sort of half embrace. His weight over your top half soothed you and before you knew it, you were out of consciousness again.

Time seemed not to exist when you awoke again. You couldn’t have said how much time had passed since Felucia, how much time had passed since-

You sat straight up so swiftly that your head swam dizzily immediately. You grunted in pain. The drugs had long worn off. The pain in your back was almost blinding.

“Wait-” An exclamation from across the bay and with double vision, you watched as the Mandalorian who’d been feeding the child in his lap, placed the baby down carefully but quickly and then rushed your way.

You groaned again and held a hand up in his direction. He stopped in his tracks. He was the very last person in existence you wanted to face right now. General Ulric would have been preferable, and you’d stolen his entire spaceship.

You winced, recalling bits and pieces of your last interaction with the Mandalorian in that very cot. How much had you said? You couldn’t remember. Had you cried? Oh, stars, you’d cried. Your face warmed and you wished very much you could fade into nothingness.

Mistaking your pained face for physical pain, the Mandalorian ignored your outstretched hand and surged forward again, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You need to lay down. You’ll hurt yourself again worse.” His voice was commanding if gentle.

You twitched out of his grip which only resulted in a sharp twinge of pain in your back. You hissed.

The Mandalorian made a noise of impatience in his throat. “Stop.” He bit at you. “Just lay down.” He held his hands up, indicating he wouldn’t touch you again.

You glared at him but obeyed, lowering yourself slowly back down, every movement bringing with it stabs of pain. The Mandalorian watched your face carefully, noting every expression you made, and though his hands hovered worriedly above you, he made good on his silent promise.

You closed your eyes in humiliation and used your hands to toss the blanket back over your face.

You heard a metal clanking nearby and knew he’d kneeled down next to you again. Meanwhile the baby was cooing and giggling, small pitter patters telling you he was making his way towards the both of you. 

“No,” you heard the Mandalorian mutter and from the sound of it, he’d picked the baby up and placed him back on his knee.

“Where are we?” You made your grumpiness known in the tone with which you asked.

He seemed to hesitate. Then- “Almost to Arvala-7.”

You threw the blanket back off your face so you could continue glaring. “What in the world could you possibly need on Arvala-7?”

The baby shrieked delightedly when your face reappeared from behind the blanket and he leaned forward towards the cot. The Mandalorian glanced down at him and pulled the child further towards him and away from the cot.

“I was...” The Mandalorian’s voice finally betrayed emotion again. “I thought…” He trailed off as he struggled with the child, always trying to break free and roam these days. “I thought you were going to die.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but from the way his helmet was still tilted down towards the child, you knew he was evading your gaze. You relaxed a little, dropping some of the anger from your eyes.

You looked at the child now too, his big bright eyes watching you intently, curiously, clearly very happy to see you though you could not say why. Your gaze, of its own accord, softened a bit more as you watched him.

But something had been bothering you in the back of your mind since you’d woken up. Your eyes went from the child to the spot on the floor where you’d thought you would bleed to death. You recalled the puddle of your own blood you’d been in. The pain. The fading of everything when you’d lost consciousness. You’d been so certain…

“How am I alive?” You exclaimed suddenly. Your eyes found the Mandalorian’s visor again but he too was looking at the spot where he must have found you passed out.

He looked down now meaningfully at the child who stared up at his father curiously, as if searching for some cue as to what was taking place between the two of you.

Your eyes landed on the child again and realization came, but… Your eyes widened, then you were shaking your head.

“It’s not possible…”

The child and the Mandalorian both looked your way now at the same time. The child giggled but the Mandalorian merely stared.

“He passes out.” The Mandalorian finally filled the awestruck silence. His words were faltering, as if he wasn’t sure he should even be saying them, but something in his stance told you that he trusted you. “When I got us away….I came back down. You were both…” Every time he broached the topic, his modulated voice grew heavy with emotion. “I thought you were…” The Mandalorian shook his helmet and placed the child down then leaned forward as if he couldn’t help himself.

You watched him, confusion and wonder etched across your face. “He did what he could,” the Mandalorian muttered. “But your injuries are still… You need time to heal. I gave you what I had left of the bacta. Your reaction was…” He trailed off, not wanting to bring up what was clearly the topic of your ire.

The child had clambered up onto the cot at your side. Neither of you stopped him, but he only sat there and watched you, one tiny three fingered-hand on your knee.

You stared at the child, the sides of your mouth pulling up against your will. “Is he alright?” Your hand came up involuntarily and you brushed the baby’s little hairy face briefly before dropping your hand. The baby cooed.

The Mandalorian reached forward and stroked one of the child’s ears. The child cooed more excitedly now as he stared back at his father. “Yes…” He paused. “I think he gives up energy to...heal. He requires rest to recover.”

You stared in wonder at the kid who blinked his big eyes at you, his little hand patting your knee playfully as he grasped at the blanket. He seemed to want you to get up and play. Maybe the little game of chase he’d led you through only a few days prior.

You smiled finally at the kid. “Maybe later, little monster.” You intoned at him. “When I’m feeling better and can actually get away.”

The child shrieked happily and clambered off the cot and back toward his food. He seemed to understand your words. For the most part.

The Mandalorian watched this exchange fondly if silently. The child busied himself with the food the Mandalorian had been feeding him before.

Now it was just you and _him_.

He shifted in place where he kneeled next to you.

“I shouldn’t have-” He began.

“What’s on Arvala-7?” You interrupted him.

He paused then looked at you. “If I had-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Mandalorian.” You interrupted again, more forcefully this time.

He tilted his helmet at you, then nodded. “A friend.” He paused, then- “Two friends.”

You waited.

“I want to make sure you heal.”

“I’m fine,” you said stubbornly, resting your head back on the pillow.

The Mandalorian hesitated. “I just want to make sure you completely heal.”

You ignored that as you stared up at the ceiling.

Then-

“Thank you.” Almost a whisper, static-filled and broken.

You snapped your head up to stare at him, wondering what he was talking about. “For what?”

He seemed to have difficulty talking again. His hand moved as if he wanted to touch you but he thought better of it. “You saved my life.”

Your brow furrowed and you threw your head back down stubbornly. “I slipped.” You lied through your teeth, still so mad he’d gotten information out of you while you’d been drugged. But you were madder at no one than yourself, for so willingly giving up all your secrets, no matter your state.

He took your hand anyway, for only a moment, and squeezed before letting go. You were sorry the instant he let go, immediately missing his warmth. But you swallowed the noise of protest and the thought as he walked away. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as he scooped the child up and made his way back up the ladder to the cockpit.

You shifted in place, groaning quietly at the pain. It was dulling, you could tell. The bacta might have run out, but you were healing.

You felt something chafe against your neck and you reached up to grasp the leather cord around your neck. Your hands found the little metallic medallion in the shape of a disc, simple but sophisticated.

Your eyes watered again against your will as you cradled it in your hand. You’d seen beautiful jewelry all around the galaxy, worth millions and millions of credits. This was ugly objectively in comparison yet nothing was more precious. You ensured the necklace was secure around your neck and realized _he_ must have put it on for you.

Your eyes found the ladder again. As mad as you’d been - _were_ \- you missed his presence more. And maybe that of the little green goblin. You pondered making noise to draw them back down, but stubbornness won out over reason.

This time, it took you much longer, but finally you fell into what was now a restless, somewhat painful sleep.

The jostling of the Razor Crest as it landed woke you this time. Immediately, the first thing you noticed was the pain, dull even more so than before. The second thing, the child, sitting in the crook of your arm, watching you curiously as you slept with his big bright eyes. You blinked at each other.

The child cooed, giggled, then reached his three little pudgy fingers toward your face. You blew at his hand as if willing it away, and he merely giggled, bringing a reluctant smile to your face. His hand rested on your collar bone and you tilted your head at him, wondering his game when-

You began to feel a calm run through you and a sharp pain went through your back followed by a numbing bliss.

“No,” you uttered, realizing what the baby was doing. You slapped his hand away more harshly than you meant to and tumbled backward off the cot, letting out a hoarse scream of pain when your tailbone hit the metallic floor of the ship.

A storm of footsteps above, then on the ladder.

“Are you alright?” The Mandalorian fell to your side, his hands helping to straighten you out.

His gaze went from you to the child who sat forlornly on the cot, his ears drooping.

“I’m fine,” you said through clenched teeth, involuntarily squeezing the Mandalorian’s hand through the pain rippling in your back.

“I’m sorry, I think I scared him.” You meant the apology to the child, and he seemed to understand because he cooed curiously down at you two, a question, his ears rising again.

The Mandalorian gently helped you sit up and you let him.

“He tried to...heal me again, I think.” You murmured appreciatively.

The Mandalorian made a sound of recognition as he gazed at the child now too.

“I didn’t want…” You started. “I don’t want him knocking out again for me.” You finished lamely, not wanting to be sentimental. It wasn’t _not_ true. You didn’t want the baby weakening himself for you. You would live.

But the Mandalorian stared down at you for several long moments until-

“Help me up,” you huffed impatiently.

This made the Mandalorian chuckle unexpectedly. Clearly he was glad to see that your anger towards him had mostly dissipated.

He picked you up carefully and put you on your feet, apologizing unnecessarily for the hisses of pain you let out. 

Then the ramp was lowering and he was helping you down the ramp and into the bright sunlight of this desert planet, the child toddling behind after you both.

You’d learned your lesson from before. Rejecting the Mandalorian’s touch, even when you wanted it, only made him withhold that touch. So, instead, you leaned into him as you walked. Though there was something to be said for the fact that you also weren’t completely sure you could have made the walk alone. You’d always taken for granted how much an intact back had helped you walk.

A shorter humanoid figure waited for you in front of a hut.

“Kuill,” the Mandalorian greeted the figure warmly.

“Welcome back, Mandalorian.” The ugnaught responded. “Welcome to you, young one.” He nodded at you. Then, “And you, little one.” The child shrieked in response.

“Greetings,” you nodded at the ugnaught through teeth clenched in pain.

Suddenly, another figure appeared from within the hut. An IG droid. A hunter. You tensed, your head swiveling wildly to see where the child was behind you. Your back spasmed as you did so. It took you seconds before you wondered why the Mandalorian hadn’t reacted before you did.

“Wait,” he was saying, trying to get ahold of your shoulder without hurting you. “He’s a friend.” The words weren’t registering right. But that could have to do with the pain coursing through you.

“A friend?” You said painfully through gritted teeth, grasping the Mandalorian’s hand painfully as you tried to straighten yourself from the way you’d almost fallen backwards in your haste to cover the kid from the hunter. A friend??? Didn’t he hate droids?

“What were you doing?” The Mandalorian muttered quietly as he stood you up straight again, his arm coming around you protectively just above where your wound was healing. But he followed your gaze to the child then rotated his head slowly to look at you. Was that awe? You ignored it and started forward again so he’d stopped paying attention to your mishap.

“Mandalorian. Baby. Miss.” The droid was saying mechanically, if somehow warmly.

The baby shrieked happily up at the droid.

“A hunter IG unit?” You whispered confusedly at the Mandalorian at your side.

“I am a nurse droid.” So apparently droids weren’t against listening in on conversations.

“Cool, I’m a thief,” you shot back. The droid focused his block head mechanically on you. The ugnaught seemed both taken aback and amused.

“You require a nurse.” The droid said suddenly.

You narrowed your eyes at the droid. “No. I’m perfectly fine.” You attempted to take a step without the Mandalorian’s arm as support and almost buckled. 

The Mandalorian caught you swiftly around your waist, careful not to jostle your back. “Wait.” He said patiently. He looked up at the droid. “Will you help her, IG?”

“I can help.” was the mechanic response.

You looked carefully from the man at your side to the droid. Since when was he cool with droids? You filed that away for later, deciding that you couldn’t argue at receiving medical attention when your back was hurting this bad.

“Please, come in.” The ugnaught gestured to the entryway of his home.

The Mandalorian helped you through the entryway and into the home. The ugnaught followed. Then came the droid who had picked up the child who, in turn, was giggling in the metal arms of the droid. You were perplexed to say the least.

The droid placed the child down gently on a small plush chair and produced food for him seemingly out of nowhere before turning toward you.

“I will see to you back there.” The droid gestured to a room just off this one with a cot. 

You looked at the Mandalorian who nodded then rolled your eyes. The Mandalorian helped you to the room then left to give you privacy.

“I will require you to lift your top.” The droid approached you mechanically, his arms twirling as intimidating medical tools emerged from the armpiece.

“Not even going to buy me a drink first?” You joked and you appreciated the chuckle you heard from the doorway as the Mandalorian retreated back towards the ugnaught.

The droid stopped and stared. “Do you require liquid provisions? My sensors indicate you’re well hydrated.”

You rolled your eyes again. 

The droid noted the gesture, turned back toward the doorway, looked back at you, then- “Besides, I believe you are already spoken for.”

You scoffed in disbelief, your mouth hanging open briefly at the droid’s ability to crack an almost joke. “Touché, IG.” You said happily. Since when were droids sarcastic?

You turned carefully and lifted the tunic over your head. Distantly, you heard the Mandalorian and the ugnaught’s voices fade. They must have left the home altogether.

You hissed when the droid poked your skin, his tools cold and somewhat sharp.

“How did this occur?” The droid asked as he worked. “Were you attacked by a battalion of stormtroopers?”

You turned your head so you could see him out of the corner of your eye. “What?” You asked, shocked he might somehow already know what had happened.

“That’s what happened to me last time I was with the child and his father.” The droid replied matter of factly.

You appraised him for a moment before turning back to face the wall. You chuckled. “Me too.”

“Curious.” The droid responded.

“Were you also protecting the child?” The droid asked in a curious tone. Was he jealous that you might have?

Before you could respond, a sharp pain erupted in your back.

You cursed. Loudly.

“What the kriff, droid?” You shot up involuntarily, dreading the pain, but then- As quick as the shot of pain followed your jerky movement, it was gone, fading fast until all that was left was a remnant of what it had been.

You lowered your tunic as you turned, your eyes wide. “What was that?” You looked at the large needle in his hand, wincing at the size of its tip.

“A bacta infusion I’ve concocted.” The droid responded almost proudly as he disposed of the needle.

“Are you healed?”

You stretched your arms up over your head, your necklace slipping out of your neckline and falling over your tunic. “Yes.” You said in amazement. “Thanks, IG.”

The droid tilted his head. “If you are as dedicated to protecting the child as I am, do not consider yourself in my debt.”

You nodded instead of indicating you hadn’t thought yourself in his debt, biting back the words to be kind because he had been.

“Does your holodisc require charging?” The droid pointed at your neck.

“My what?” You asked in puzzlement, gazing down at your front.

“My sensors indicate your holodisc is out of power.” The droid’s fingertip grazed your mother’s necklace.

A beat then- Dazed, you fell back onto the cot, bringing the necklace up to your eyes. It was a blank piece of metal, just a medallion, its only meaning your great love for and nostalgia for your mother.

You looked up at the droid, took the necklace off and offered it to him. “Charge it.”

*********

You were still in a daze.

The droid had charged the...disc. Not a necklace. A disc.

The Mandalorian had seemed as startled as you to find out the necklace had not been what it’d seemed. The ugnaught had been quiet, but his eyes seemed knowing. It bothered you how little he spoke but just how much his eyes seemed to understand.

They all gave you your privacy when the disc was ready to be sorted through on the ugnaught’s data pad. Only the child remained at your side. Ironically toothing on the Mandalorian’s mythosaur medallion, the one that had started this whole mess. 

You took a deep breath and pressed the select button to open the files. Your heart was beating faster than it did on a chase. The child seemed to sense your erratic energy and he made what you took to be encouraging cooing noises at your side, occasionally reaching a tiny hand wet with his saliva to poke at your side. You ignored him.

Your eyes glazed over as they took in what they were seeing. It was an encyclopedia of information on high ranking officials in the Empire, from all varieties of ranks, from an amalgam of background and planets. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until the child poked you with the medallion.

You gently swatted the sharp medallion away absently, as you scrolled, taking in the information with your eyes as a person dying of thirst might down water.

This was a treasure trove of information. You recognized many of the names. Some you’d come into contact with during your thieving, most of them when you’d been stealing from them. Many of them were now considered legitimate members of the senate or other governments, their involvement in the Empire’s crimes either being explained away or excused, many believing they had no involvement. Your mother’s necklace contained the proof, the evidence needed to condemn them all.

You began to find it hard to breathe. You felt trapped again. Your mother had gathered this evidence down to every minute detail over the years. The Empire must have found out. This must have been what set her on the run, why she’d hid you first and stashed the necklace with you. Many in the Rebellion had not known of your existence; your mother’s best efforts to keep you safe from the Empire had been to keep you secret. And it had paid off. After her demise at the hands of the Empire, no one had sought you out.

Your mother had died for this information. And had trusted only you to keep it safe. Years later and you’d only just realized the medallion’s secrets. And not without help.

You gasped, disconnecting the neckl- holodisc from the datapad and pushing back from the table violently. You looked around wildly. Where to run when there was nowhere to run. This hut was unfamiliar, so were its surroundings. There was only one place you wanted to be right now.

You stuffed the holodisc down your shirt, out of sight, and rushed out of the room, ignoring the child’s questioning coos. You half-galloped across the sand, intently not looking in the direction of the blurgs’ enclosure where the Mandalorian stood with the ugnaught and the droid.

You heard the Mandalorian call out for you to wait, but instead you rushed up the ramp of the ship and ensconced yourself safely in the bunk where the child usually slept. You had to pull your knees to your chest to fit so the door would close, but once the darkness surrounded you, you were finally able to release your tears.

You prayed the Mandalorian would leave you in peace until you were ready. Somehow, you knew he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this one, but there will be next chapter. Hope everyone is enjoying where this is going. Definitely tried to add a more overall emotional element to this and something of a backstory to sort of raise the stakes and create some more meaning. Hope that all comes through and that you all enjoy the building feelings/emotions/climax of the story. But stick around if you're more here for smut, there will definitely be more next chapter! Thanks so much to everyone for reading/enjoying/commenting, it honestly means so much to me! <3


	5. Chapter Five

You awoke feeling weak and shaky. Your eyes were sore and red rimmed. You untangled your limbs and searched for the button on the inner panel that would let you out. You needed fresh air and you needed to stretch your legs. The door swooshed down, loud in the dead of the quiet in the ship.

Outside, night had fallen and only dim lights on the surrounding panels in the hull were lit. You outstretched your legs painfully, some of your limbs had gone numb. Carefully you lowered yourself out of the bunk but when you straightened, one gloved hand was waiting to take yours.

You gazed up at his dark visor with red eyes you wish he’d never seen this way. It wasn’t vanity; you just didn’t need _anyone_ seeing your vulnerabilities. But...right now...if you had to choose - better that it be him.

You took his hand and straightened up, stretching your weak limbs. He caught you when you faltered, but he didn’t smother you. Most importantly, he didn’t speak. He was getting better and better at reading what you did and didn’t need.

Later, you both sat on the ramp overlooking the dark, windy desert. His cloak was once again draped over your shoulders to protect you from the cold of the desert.

You gazed blankly up at the bright stars, imagining one of them to be one of the planets you’d been on with your mother. Maybe Gavin-4. The forest had been so sweet when you’d walked through it hand-in-hand with her. You’d thought it all a game then; she’d protected you from the worst of everything. Until she couldn’t.

You looked sideways at the Mandalorian. He didn’t stir. You could never see where he was looking but sometimes you liked to think he was looking at you from behind the helmet, even when you couldn’t tell. These thoughts were dangerous, you knew. But so much had changed in so little time, you didn’t know what or how to think anymore.

Suddenly he turned his helmet to look directly at you as if reading your thoughts.

You didn’t turn away. You knew you still looked a mess, but you weren’t sure you cared.

“It was a list of officials in the Empire,” you said, your voice raw. You fought for control of your emotions. If you broke again, if you broke in front of him, you wouldn’t be able to gather yourself together again. “Top secret information.” He tilted his helmet to indicate he was listening; he always knew the right thing to say or do. It gave you confidence. “It’s what she was working on when she- It’s why she-”

A hand found yours in the darkness and held tightly. You took a shaky breath.

“A lot of them...maybe all of them got away with what they did. No one could prove anything. This disc...has all the proof needed to bring them down.”

He squeezed your hand.

You looked away from his blank helmet finally. “I’ve been sitting on this information for years, Mandalorian...I didn’t know...”

He stirred, clearly wanting to contradict you, but how could you when these were facts?

You shook your head before he could speak. “I could have…”

“But you didn’t.”

Not the response you were expecting, but he drew you close to him to take the sting from his words.

“It doesn’t matter. You know now. And now…” He paused, as if mulling over his words, “you can do something about it.”

You gazed up at his visor somewhat in awe. Then you did something you never would have done but for your emotionally vulnerable state and leaned in to embrace him. A true embrace. Your arms went around his broad chest, never mind the impossibly rigid armor. He hesitated at first, from surprise maybe. Then his arms were going around you too.

You reveled in his touch as much as you cursed yourself for succumbing to your weakness for this armored bounty hunter. He was unraveling you in all the worst ways and, worst of all, you didn’t care. At least not right now.

You turned and shifted over until you were nearly straddling his lap, closing the gap between the two of you to nearly nothing. His arms around you tightened pulling you into him. You tilted your head to look directly into his visor; though you could see no part of him, you needed to know you were looking right at him. Instinct took over and your lips found their way to his helmet. His arms trailed up your back to tangle in your hair. 

You trailed kisses down the cool metal until you reached the gap between his shoulder and helmet. Then you were placing feather soft kisses to the warm fabric there, just _needing_ to keep the space between him and you to a minimum. Meanwhile, you could feel the Mandalorian’s strong hands rubbing long sensual lines up and down your body, both pulling you further into him and soothing you at the same time.

You could feel him hardening beneath you and moaned as you kissed his chest plate and grinded your hips down into him. You heard the sharp intake of breath from beneath his helmet as his hands came up to your mid-back to hold you in place. You could hear his breathing both quicken and grow shorter as your kisses made their way down his armor plate.

Suddenly in one swift, fluid movement, he was anchoring you securely in his arms and surging to his feet, your knees hooked over his arms. You gasped at the sudden change. He froze.

“Are you alright?” Soft. So soft. He was worried about your back, but you were fully healed now.

You tightened your hold around him and buried your face in his neck, nipping at the fabric over his collarbone in answer. With your ear up to his helmet, you heard his hiss in response clearly. Carrying you this way, he turned and swept into the ship, more clear-headed this time as he closed the ramp behind you using his vambrace. Meanwhile you were nipping along his neck, trying to catch skin from beneath the heavy fabric he wore.

Unlike last time, when he had been pushing you roughly up against his cold ship with his armored body, he leaned over the cot and laid you down gently, at the same time that he removed the clasps keeping his beskar clamped to him. Your fingers were shaking with a nervousness you hadn’t felt before as you tried to help him. You weren’t nervous about the physical act of what you were doing. You were nervous about the tenderness with which the Mandalorian was handling you, tenderness you couldn’t help but return in kind. What with nearly dying and the epiphany of your mother, you couldn’t find it in you to treat him any other way. Not now.

Finally, the last piece of beskar fell to the floor with a clank and you were pulling the Mandalorian by the scruff of his tunic to fall over you. Your mouth found the gap between his shoulder and chin and you sank your lips softly there, searching for the warmth of his skin. With his figure shifting over you, the fabric finally gave and your lips found the smooth heat of his neck. You pressed a kiss to the spot, eliciting a guttural moan from him as he moved sensuously against you.

His hands moved over your body with urgency, his fingers squeezing your breasts before sliding down to lightly brush over your core. Your breath was growing short and your head was getting light. You needed more. More than he’d ever given you before, more than you’d yet given him.

You cried out when his fingers pressed down over your center, short circles of bursting pleasure. It was too much; it was not enough. You needed him inside you, needed to feel more. Your hands went to your own pants, trying to push them off with his weight still on top of you. He paused when he realized what you were doing, then helped you slide them down and off of you. Then you were both fumbling at his belt and the clasp of his pants. 

You gasped when you felt him, long, thick and smooth, against your inner thigh. Your fist bunched the fabric of his tunic, trying to keep control as you waited impatiently. But the Mandalorian was in no rush. He brushed your hand aside gently, the hand that had been reaching down to put him inside of you. Then you felt his cool, calloused fingers on your clit and your back arched of its own accord as you saw bright flashes behind your eyelids. 

He truly was unraveling you. His fingers languished on your clit before sinking down into your wet warmth. You cried out and buried your face into the crook of his neck. He froze and groaned when you sank your teeth into the exposed skin of his neck. But then his fingers started a delicious, delirious rhythm. You were coming undone. But this was not how you wanted to-

“Wait.” You begged, pushing at his wrist between him and your mound. He pumped once, twice more then took his fingers out with a slick sound. You peeked down to see him rubbing your wetness onto the tip of his cock and your eyes rolled back in your head. Then he was shifting his weight fully over you again, and you felt the hard, blunt tip of him nudging at your entrance. You wrapped your legs around his middle and let out a hoarse cry as he sunk into you. Finally, finally, finally.

The sound you let out as he buried his length fully within you surprised even you. It was raw and wanting and it echoed in the small space but you couldn’t find it in you to care. He was so big, so filling. You’d never felt so...complete. Your hands surged upwards to wrap around his neck, jostling his helmet. But you didn’t care.

He let out a sharp rasp when you lifted your hips so you could wrap your legs more tightly around him. Then he was moving, pulling back out of you, eliciting a desperate cry from your lips. His elbows, resting on the sleep pad on either side of your head, shifted over so that you were nestled tightly between his arms. He pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in more urgently than before. Your legs around him clenched tighter.

He began a steady, fast rhythm. The sounds your bodies were making...the slap of skin on skin every time he plunged into you...the soft wet noises...the grunts coming from beneath the helmet...were making you feverish. 

“Please,” you begged, but you didn’t know what it was you were asking him for.

Still he seemed to know...one arm flew back and knocked your legs away and then he was sitting up, still deep inside of you, and folding your legs back toward your head. This new position allowed him to sink even deeper and your resulting cry was primal. He began to move faster over you until the entire sleep cot was vibrating with your movements. His cock began to hit a spot deep inside of you that left you breathless. The moans and gasps from beneath the helmet reverberated within you. You threw your head back roughly against the pillow, beginning to see stars burst behind your eyelids.

Though his rhythm did not slow, one hand found its way roughly under your head, holding you still, cushioning your neck even as he continued to ram into you. You couldn’t control your own body which began surging upwards to meet his. You felt the waves forming in your core, growing exponentially as he plunged into you over and over. You let out a short, terse scream and buried your head as far into his neck as you could.

Then-

He shifted over you again so that he was entering at a blisteringly sweet angle...his cock thrust against your walls in just the right spot and the waves within you broke. You found yourself losing control of your limbs, going completely taut but still trembling uncontrollably. You cried loudly out into the skin of his neck, biting down in your pleasure.

He let out a sharp groan as your walls clenched and pulsed around him. His arms tightened around you as he gave one last hoarse grunt before he stilled. You could feel his cock twitching within your walls, could feel his warm, wet seed fill you.

Still trembling, you tightened your grip around him. He began to fall toward you but stopped himself with his arms.

“I’ll hurt you.” His voice was hoarse, nearly gone, thinking his full weight on top of you would harm you.

You yanked at him again until he was laying flush against you. You let out a content sigh and his hands wound their way into your hair, pulling you further into his neck. Never...never had you felt this...you could not even think of a word for it. Something wet trailed down your face, and you startled, thinking something had fallen from the ceiling.

“Are you-” The Mandalorian pulled far back enough to lift his head but stopped talking when he saw your face. You realized at the same moment as him that the wetness was coming from your eyes. He said nothing but wiped the tears dry and pulled your head back into the crook of his neck and settled down over you again.

More tears came but you only held him to you tighter, as if you could join your bodies in a way that didn’t involve sex. This feeling building within you was going to be the death of you. You fell asleep, a heavy pressure building in your chest that had nothing to do with the Mandalorian’s weight on top of you.

You awoke just before dawn, cradled between the Mandalorian’s arms, at his side now. Your head was resting on his chest just below his helmet, from below which you could hear his soft snoring. Bleary eyed, you stirred, lifting your head from his chest to stare at his visor, more blank now that he wasn’t awake to give any indication as to his thoughts.

This felt wrong. Too good. Too perfect. You were...happy. You hated it. If only because you knew you could lose that feeling at any second; the universe seemed meant to punish you. You couldn’t remain there a moment longer.

You slid out of the Mandalorian’s grip. He stirred but you didn’t think he’d woken up. You let the blanket fall over him before opening the ramp and slipping out into the cold dawning morning.

The ramp closing behind you, you watched as the ugnaught approached his home from the direction of the blurgs’ enclosure, the empty bucket in his hands telling you that he’d been feeding them. He nodded your way; you only stared back, but you took the nod as welcome and followed him through the doorway and into his home.

You didn't know why but you knew there were things that he knew. Maybe about you.

You spotted the droid, powered down in the corner of the hut when you entered. 

“Please,” the ugnaught gestured to a chair at his table, a cup of Tarine tea awaiting you, as if he’d known you would seek him out.

You said nothing but sat down and took the cup between your palms for warmth. He sat across from you with his own cup of Tarine.

You broke the silence first; the ugnaught was too knowing by half, but there was something comforting about that. The Mandalorian trusted him. That was enough for you. You briefly explained the contents of the disc without going into detail about you or your mother.

Nothing seemed to surprise the ugnaught. “You already knew,” you murmured, suspicious, your hands itching for the blaster that you’d left on the ship.

He finally met your gaze head on; his own was chiding and you lowered your eyes. “No,” he rasped, “ but I’d surmised much.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Like what?” You raised the cup to your lips and took a short draw.

“Who your mother is. Who you are.”

You were equally surprised and not. From what you’d garnered so far, the ugnaught had been forced into servitude by the Empire at its height. Depending on his position there, he would have been privy to certain knowledge. Those in charge tended to forget about and undermine those in service to them, especially if they didn’t consider them their equals.

“Did you know her?” The words were tight in your mouth, strung high.

“No.” The blunt one-worded response stung, and you struggled not to show it. “I knew of her. The work she accomplished.”

You swallowed, the gesture difficult. “I didn’t know…” You palmed the disc hanging safely around your neck again.

“Don’t you wonder why your mother left the information to you? Do you think she didn’t know you’d carry on her legacy?”

The words hurt because even if your mother had thought you were the right person to finish what she’d started, you hadn’t lived up to it. “But...I’ve done nothing...I’m nobody.”

The ugnaught chuckled, surprising you. “In the grand scheme of things, little one, we are all nobody. And we all matter.”

You blinked at the contradiction.

He smiled knowingly. “Your mother died to retrieve the information you now hold in your palm, yet to the universe at large, who is she? Nobody.” You flinched, but he wasn’t done. “Yet, she made you and she raised you. The thievery you think so little of, that makes you think so little of yourself…what has it accomplished?”

You felt ashamed now. Truly. What? Petty thievery meant to harm the Imperials one by one, yet you’d accomplished nothing.

But the ugnaught continued, not giving you a chance to respond, though you didn’t know what to say. “The rotoblade you took from Corporal Santtion. He spent more time searching for you out of a need to nurse his ego than it warranted when he could have easily replaced the blade. Time he could have spent imprisoning and torturing more. Surely at least a handful of innocents escaped his wrath thanks to you.”

You blinked dazedly again. How did he know any of this? How could he know?

He tapped the subspace transceiver beside him. “I may not look like much, nor my surroundings. But I have as much interest as you and the Mandalorian in the downfall of the Imperials.”

You smiled lightly, feeling lost yet somehow found all at the same time.

He listed more things you had taken, small as they were, along with the disruption they had caused to the Imperials and a list of what those thefts had prevented.

Your throat felt tight. “You can’t know it’s all true. That I truly accomplished all that…from…petty theft.”

It blew your mind...that others, those on the same side of the war, knew who you were and what you did. That you hadn’t truly been alone all this time. That your actions, as petty as they’d seemed when done, had actually mattered.

The ugnaught reached over and tapped your head lightly. “You haven’t been listening, little one. One person’s actions, small as they may seem, can result in a far reaching chain of events unforeseen but meaningful. You haven’t brought down the Imperials by your actions alone, but you have impeded them…and now…you hold in your hand the results of your mother’s sacrifice. Greater power than some of those whom the Imperials consider their greatest enemies.”

He tapped the knuckles under which was clenched your mother’s necklace. “Because of your mother, _nobody_ , and because of you, nobody, the Imperials will suffer greatly.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears. This ugnaught annoyed you with his ability to tear right through your hard facade and down to your heart. “How do I do that?” You asked sarcastically, willing your emotions away.

The ugnaught smiled warmly, too knowingly, he saw right through your attitude. “You expose the list. You and your Mandalorian take them down one by one.” _Your_ Mandalorian?

“Why would he help me?” Confusion colored your tone. Kuill was wrong. The Mandalorian had greater things at stake. A child to worry about. You were the last thing he had on his mind. Unless he was thinking with his dick.

The Ugnaught stared at you now as if you were stupid and you squirmed under his gaze. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke. “If you refuse to see the real reason for his willingness to help you…” you were going to ignore that and you were going to ignore that hard. “The more Imperials the two of you take down, the safer that Child will be. Your list contains very high ranking members, all likely to have attaining the child high on their list of goals. You must prevent that too.”

You groaned in annoyance. There were so many layers to all of this. And you’d never asked for any of it. Your goal had been to disrupt the Imperials’ lives for the worse. But you’d never been arrogant enough to presume you had the power to truly make a difference, to change things. And more recently, you’d just been trying to get into the Mandalorian’s pants.

“You have everything and everyone you need to accomplish what your mother started. The task itself is up to you. I have spoken.” The Ugnaught said with finality just as a heavy set of footsteps sounded from the doorway alerting you to the Mandalorian’s presence.

It was time to finally go to Lothal, except this time, the ugnaught and the droid would be accompanying you. The question of your next move had never been broached and you had quite intentionally avoided the issue, though your initial thought had been to steal the first ship you saw on Lothal and get to a place of peace alone so you could begin thinking straight again.  
Later, as you helped prepare to leave, for lack of something better to do, you realized the Mandalorian had heard more than he’d let on that morning.

“What you and Kuill were talking about earlier…”

You grunted as you tried to fit a particular difficult part of the child’s new floating bassinet into the frame as per Kuill’s instructions. “Didn’t realize eavesdropping was a part of the Mandalorian creed.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

He made a noise under the helmet you were 75% sure was a chuckle, 25% sure was a cough. He ignored that otherwise though. “What Kuill said...he was right.”

Frustrated, you tried using your fist against the part that was refusing to cooperate in order to attach it to the frame, but it was no use. Then his hand was stopping yours, taking the part and with one swift, strong movement, fitting it into the frame precisely.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Kriffing show off.” But then he was taking your shoulders in his hands and turning you to face his dumb, blank helmet.

“You’re someone whether you take down even one Imperial or not.”

You jerked your chin out of his palm and swooped under his arm to escape behind him.

“Shows what you know, Mandalorian,” you threw over your shoulder at him with a cheeky grin as you left the hut. “I’m going to take down the whole damn Empire.”

Hours later, you were in hyperspace. You’d watched from the sleep cot as the Mandalorian put the child to sleep, watched him watching the baby fall into a deep, peaceful slumber. Kuill and IG manned the cockpit. Something told you they knew better than to leave the cockpit.

The Mandalorian turned and you were sure your face said everything that your voice didn’t need to. This time the sex was slow, languishing, torturous. He took his time, slow long strokes that undid you one by one. With the ship now inhabited, you both had to keep it down, but neither of you could stop the way your breaths came out ragged and fast. 

He began pulling out all the way, leaving you gasping into the palm of his glove. You would arch your back, lifting your hips, to get him to enter you again. But he would push your hips down roughly before thrusting into you again. He did this so many times...your orgasm was building but you couldn’t seem to reach it and your body was burning. You fought back sobs of pleasure when finally, gasping, he sunk into you again and couldn’t seem to pull back out again. He fucked you with short quick thrusts that brought you both to quick orgasms. You panted your orgasm loudly into his neck again.

Both sweaty and weak, you held each other, and for once, you could think of no quick, sarcastic words to battle the feelings threatening to envelope you again. So you stayed quiet and let him hold you.

Later, you sat on the floor in front of the sleep cot between his knees. He was caressing your head, running gloved fingers absently through your hair. You had never felt anything so exquisite.

But he was distracted, bothered. “Why don’t you ever ask me my name?”

You leaned your head back in his lap and furrowed your brow up at him, and his hands slowed to a stop, tangled in your strands. You stared up at his visor, searching. He was expressive, even with the helmet on. His body language was telling, especially to you after the time you’d spent together.

His gloved fingers moved up to trace your brows. “Or ask to see under my helmet?”

You closed your eyes as his fingers traced the lines of your face and thought about your answer, though you knew already what it was.

“For the same reason you never asked me my name?” It was a question, but you knew he understood. “Or that you never asked my story?”

His fingers paused on your forehead where he’d been drawing soothing lines along it. “No,” he stated. “That’s not it.”

Your forehead wrinkled again under the touch of his fingers as you opened one eye to look curiously up at him.

“Why _didn’t_ you ever ask me my name? Or my story?” A question for an answer. You knew he expected nothing less from you.

His fingers paused on your forehead where he’d been drawing soothing lines along it. “At first,” his tone was stunted, faltering. “I didn’t think there was much to know,” he admitted, and you could tell he was ashamed, though it didn’t bother you, so you reached a hand up to clasp and squeeze his fingers reassuringly. He squeezed back. “But,” here he paused again, and his finger went to your lips, tracing them softly. “Then I did start asking.” He prompted your memory. He wasn’t wrong.

You smiled against his finger. “Only once I was drugged, you piece of bantha fodder.” The memory pained you now only a little. He’d gotten so much out of you then, all of it voluntary and only some of it at the prompt of his questions.

He sighed deeply, and intuitively you realized you’d struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to. “I shouldn’t have-” He started.

You shifted between his legs so you were half-turned. “I don’t regret it, Mandalorian.” The words were sharp but heartfelt.

He gazed at you through the visor and brushed your hair back absently. He said a word so softly in his helmet that you couldn’t tell what it was. 

“What?”

“Din.” He breathed. It took you a long moment to process what that meant.

Your heart started beating, too fast for you to handle. You let go of his hand slowly and sat back on your heels, away from him.

He sighed but didn’t try to touch you.

“You shouldn’t be telling me that,” you whispered. “It’s sacred.”

“I know it is.” The Mandalorian responded, as if irritated you were quoting Mandalorian creed at him. He ran a knuckle along your chin then pulled away.

“You don’t ask because you’re scared.” He answered his own question from earlier, angering you immediately. Now you pushed backwards so you were sitting on the floor a few feet from him. “Of opening up to someone. Of losing someone.”

“Don’t tell me about myself as if you know.” You said through clenched teeth. 

He froze in place, watching you mutely. 

“That’s rich coming from you. You’re like a wall. You hate droids so much but you function like one.” You said the nastiest things you could think to say because his words were sinking beneath the armor _you_ usually kept up to protect yourself.

He flinched but didn’t move towards you. “That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice had gone flat. He was angry with you now, but only just. The worst part was - he was right: you _did_ know it. Long before you’d even realized you felt anything for the Mandalorian beyond lust, he had already been protecting you, treating you tenderly and you hadn’t even deserved it then. You didn’t deserve it now either. You saw the way he interacted with other people and creatures. His armor was deceiving; he made more friends in one interaction with strangers than you had in your entire life.

“I didn’t ask for your name,” you finally huffed, crossing your arms and sitting back so your back was against the cold ship. You had nothing better to say in retaliation and you both knew it.

“But it’s mine to tell you.” He said in a tone of finality. You glared at him.

He stood finally and stalked past you to the ladder. “And I don’t want you to do anything else stupid like take your helmet off either,” you called after him.

He grunted in recognition of your words. You knew he wouldn’t be joining you anytime soon, and you certainly wouldn’t be joining him in the cockpit either. 

A soft coo startled you out of your thoughts. The child must have woken at some point during your quiet argument. He was staring at you curiously from his perch in the pod; you hadn’t even heard the bunk door slide open. You turned your head, evading his stare, adamant not to further foster any more personal connections you didn’t need.

You heard the soft bump anyway and hmphed quietly, knowing the child had dropped to the floor. You heard the small pitter patter of his steps as he approached you and now you pretended to sleep. But he knew better and so did you. 

When he reached out to grasp your arms, he only succeeded in tickling your side. You tried to hold your breath but ended up letting out a soft giggle. You swatted his tiny hands away from your side gently as you finally turned to face him. His ears perked up and he cooed louder, reaching out to you again, his eyes shining brightly with hope.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you said, as you reached out to scoop him up and rest him in your lap. “But I don’t like you. And I don’t want to know your name either.” The child cooed happily, and it was your turn to sigh. You leaned back against the ship to rest your eyes finally. “If it’s between you and him, I’d rather spend time with you anyway,” you muttered. Absently, without realizing it, as you began to doze off, your fingers slowly caressed the child’s ear.

When you awoke, you were splayed out in the cot, covered fully by the one blanket on board. The child was laid out beside your waist on top of the blanket. That meant the Mandalorian had found you both and relocated you. You blinked your eyes blearily and looked around. 

He was sitting on a stool across the way, cleaning his blaster. 

You sat up very slowly, careful not to jostle the child. Though he must have noted your movement, the Mandalorian did not turn in your direction nor acknowledge you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Your voice was raspy with sleep. Now he paused his movement around the blaster. 

“You don’t have to apologize.” His modulated voice was soft. So soft. What he _had_ to understand was that you didn’t deserve his tenderness. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

You shook your head. “I just-” You stopped yourself unsure of what you even meant to say. “I need time.” You finished hoarsely.

He looked finally your way, putting the blaster down. As you swept your legs softly from under the blanket, he took the few steps that separated you from him. You rested your head against his middle, and his hands came up to tangle in your hair again, to hold your head against him softly.

“You won’t lose me.” He said so quietly you almost weren’t sure that’s what he’d said. But you didn’t want to hear it again. Your mother had said the exact same thing. And you didn’t feel like crying. So, instead, you flexed your fingers against him, and he gave a sharp intake of breath, tightening his hold in your hair.

At the same time, you used your mouth to nip softly at the fabric covering his groin. He hissed, bucking his hips once. Then he was pulling you up, careful not to jostle the sleep cot. He put a finger to your lips meant to silence you, but you held it there and took the digit in your mouth while staring at the visor, hoping his eyes were on yours as you sucked his glove. 

“Fuck,” you heard whispered, restrained, from beneath the helmet. He pulled you behind him, and you wondered where you could possibly be going considering the cockpit was occupied. 

Your eyes widened in surprise when the Mandalorian backed himself up into the bunk, bending his legs to fit. Your surprise did not faze him. He pulled you in after him, shutting the bunk door just as your legs passed through. You were cramped in the small space against him, straddling him. You could feel his erection growing against your waist.

He didn’t wait for you to guess what he wanted. He reached down and undid your pants, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband. You had to lift your hips so he could reach your cunt. You gasped when his fingers found your clit and deftly began rubbing tantalizing circles. Then he was pinching your clit softly between his fingers and you gasped louder now, the top of your head hitting the ceiling of the bunk. But he didn’t stop and you found yourself unable to catch your breath. You caught his hand and yanked it out of your pants.

As you pushed your pants down to your ankles, a task made difficult by your position above him, he was unclasping his own. Your lips formed an o of surprise when he took himself in hand and pumped his fist up and down his cock. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. You’d never felt so turned on with so little foreplay. You knocked his hand aside, spit into your hand and spread the spit over his tip.

His turn to groan, his hips reflexively bucking upwards. Then he was gripping your waist tightly, moving you toward him. You had to fold your body awkwardly over his in order to sink down over him, but once you did, you stopped thinking about the cramped space and could only focus on the hiss the Mandalorian was letting out as you impaled yourself on his length. You couldn’t catch your breath and your hands slapped against his chest, so you could slow your descent onto him.

You felt him going deeper than even before, sure he was hitting your cervix, but the feeling of fullness was so intense you didn’t care. You let out a tiny scream when he bucked his hips up into you. His hand flew to your mouth, but he didn’t stop. He bucked his hips up again and you saw stars exploding behind your eyes again. Your head hit the ceiling again, and then he was pulling your torso down, smashing your head against his shoulder. This only provided another different, delicious angle for him to penetrate you.

He stilled your hips from riding him, grabbed your waist and began to thrust up into you. You couldn’t stop the moans that he was eliciting and tried to bury them in the fabric at his throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned from beneath the helmet. He was so much more vocal this time; you liked it. Your pussy clenched tightly around him. “Fuck,” he rasped again.

You clenched tighter around him again and he stilled. “Stop,” he wheezed, his grip on your waist tightening as if he could control your grip around his cock that way. He thrust up again with a gasp and your pussy gripped him tightly again. You smiled wickedly at his visor now.

He tilted his helmet at you, then his hand was tangling in your hair and pulling you roughly down.

“What-”

Suddenly, he was wrapping both arms vice-like around your back, holding you down flush against him and thrusting hard up into you. You yelped in equal measures pleasure and surprise into his neck. He didn’t let up. You knew the bunk was rattling, metallic bangs echoing across the ship, but you weren’t sure either of you cared.

You couldn’t control your cunt anymore either. He was building you up and breaking you apart again. Your moans into his neck grew louder until he thrust one last time, so hard and fast that you were sure you’d lost your vision briefly. Then you were both coming. Together. You seized up over him, clenching his clothes in your fists as you shook with the power of your orgasm. At the same time, he was frozen, his hips lifted above the bunk, and you could feel his seed beginning to ooze out of you when finally his hips dropped. You were both paralyzed; your body gave short seizure-like movements. You couldn’t move, could barely breathe.

“What the- fuck...Mandalorian” you gasped. “If you…” You stopped to take a shuddering breath. “If you don’t fuck me like that- every time from now on...I’ll…”

But you lost your train of thought. His hips jerked again and your pussy was seizing up around him again even as he softened within you.

“I’ll fuck you every way…” He was out of breath too still. Finally his arms came up and around to hold you to him, though you still could not move. “I’ll fuck you every way you want me to,” he promised, gasping when you clenched around him again at his words.

“Fuck,” you echoed again, your brain still unable to formulate anything more eloquent than that.

You didn’t know how you were going to get through any ensuing mission at all without being able to fuck the Mandalorian at every given moment. Your heart clenched when he pulled you tight to him, his thoughts now on holding you instead of on fucking you.

Kriff, you thought. You were fucked in more way than one. Slowly the Mandalorian was consuming you in every way that mattered. Before, you’d seen an exit, a way to back out of what was happening. Now...you were no longer sure that out existed.


	6. Chapter Six

Lothal was beautiful from space, a swirl of blues, beiges and greens. The quicker you approached, the more beautiful it got. The Razor Crest landed in the middle of the wide grassy plains just east of the Dinar Settlement.

“What’s the plan?” You asked Din. It was strange to think of the Mandalorian by use of his first name. It felt both wrong and secretly thrilling. You couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to say it out loud.

The Mandalorian paused over the controls of the ship as it powered down before looking sideways at you. You could feel the smile from beneath the helmet. Your lips tugged at the corners as you struggled to keep a straight face. Still a stranger to strong feelings, it was getting harder with each passing day to hide them.

Din reached a gloved hand out to take your chin in his palm; his thumb brushed along the skin just below your lips. Your eyes dropped in sudden shyness. Your newfound sheepishness confounded you; you’d been so promiscuous with the Mandalorian from the start. But this onset of reservedness had nothing to do with sex; it was all about the way your heart seemed to grow too big for your chest every time Din looked at you or touched you these days.

Suddenly, the door to the cockpit where you’d been alone with the apparent subject of your affection slid open. The droid stood in the doorway holding a tray he’d seemed to have conjured out of nowhere on which he’d assembled a meal.

Din sighed loudly, almost longingly, and let go of your face.

“You require mid-morning provisions.” The droid monotoned, more an observation than a question. 

Din only sighed again, but you hopped up with a wide smile and snatched two rolls off the tray and slipped around IG with a snarky “thanks.”

You heard the droid turn mechanically to watch you go then turn mechanically back to the Mandalorian before you went down the ladder, chewing voraciously.

Down below, you greeted Kuill warmly and tossed one of the rolls the baby’s way. The baby was sitting up in his floating cradle and gave a high-pitched squeal when he saw you. The roll bounced lightly against his forehead then fell into his tiny outstretched hands.

“I believe IG has already fed the child,” Kuill frowned as he watched the child gobble the bread down in one go.

You put the last bite of your own roll into your mouth. “What?” You said, defensively, chewing, “he’s a growing...thing.”

Then you were opening the ramp and sidling out into the cool, windy Lothalian plains. You’d never been to Lothal, but you already liked it immensely.

You felt the Mandalorian at your back before you saw him and leaned back until your back was flush with his chest. He didn’t move except for one gloved hand that came up to clutch your waist. When you grinded backwards into him slightly, his grip tightened on you and his breath hitched. You sensed his “stop it” though he didn’t voice it.

Instead he said something a lot worse. “I’m going to go feel things out.” A pause, then- “alone.”

You pursed your lips, your innate sense of defiance prickling at his tone which left no room for argument. You tsked.

The hand on your waist trailed up to your shoulder, then your neck, his fingers brushing the skin there gently. “Argo was untrustworthy. Krawn may be the same.”

“So your idea is to go alone…” A challenge. His fingers tensed on your neck and you stopped. Alright, you would do this your way.

You grasped his fingers briefly. “Whatever you say, Mandalorian.” But he didn’t relax and he seemed to be regarding you suspiciously.

Less than an hour later, you were slipping out of the open ramp. Din had left only ten minutes ago, and you needed to catch up.

You reached him just as he was entering the settlement. He didn’t even look your way, but you heard the deep sigh from under the helmet. He never actually acknowledged you, but his hand would find your lower back to guide you as you both traversed the busy streets of Dinar. The gesture made your face warm, so you sped up to evade his reach. Another sigh, more distant this time. 

You were the one to stop and inquire as to Krawn from a passing local. Eyes fixed nervously on the Mandalorian at your shoulder, the hooded woman pointed towards a building in the distance but couldn’t give a dwelling number.

As you approached the dwelling, Din drew you nearer, and you let him, still too traumatized by Felucia to argue. Just before you reached the building, a group of locals passed, forcing you to weave among them.

“You are being followed,” you heard in a thick accent unlike your own and Din’s. “Do not look at me. Do not stop.”

A figure hooded in black had peeled off from the group and turned around and was now striding ahead of you. Remembering Argo, you hesitated, but the Mandalorian’s hand was at your back and you never broke pace. 

The figure led you in a zigzag through the settlement’s streets, often leading you into crowded groups, maybe trying to blend in, until suddenly he disappeared in the blink of an eye. The Mandalorian was the one to hesitate this time, but you, so used to running and disappearing as a career, had seen the secret behind the disappearing act. 

A patch of dirt at your feet that appeared to blend in to the rest of the ground, but it was an illusion. Before the Mandalorian could stop you, you were hopping through it. You weren’t sure if you imagined the sigh then or if it was real. You landed in a tunnel, dank but brightly lit. Someone pulled you aside but then the Mandalorian was landing beside you, hand on his blaster. Krawn...it must have been Krawn...released you and held his palms up in a showing of peace. He glanced up at the patch you’d passed through. Shadowy figures were hovering above, pacing back and forth, clearly looking for you all. Krawn held a finger up to his lips and gestured his way.

You glanced at Din, who tilted his helmet at you. An agreement, unspoken, passed between you and you both followed Krawn a long, quiet way until you reached a chamber, sparsely furnished and cold.

“I am Krawn.” The man finally spoke, pulling off his hood. “And you are the Mandalorian.”

Din only stared as if gauging Krawn’s trustworthiness.

The other man did not seem to be phased. “Are there others?”

Din said nothing but a tilt of his helmet provided an affirmation.

Krawn turned to inspect a table covered in devices, some put together, some taken apart, all out of date. “They need to get to safety, away from here. The Imperials are tracking you.”

Din reached for his communicator.

“No.” You said at the same time as Krawn, and Din looked between the two of you.

“They will be tracking all signals out of Dinar.” Krawn spoke to the Mandalorian, but his eyes were on you, curious and wondering. He handed the Mandalorian an old radio, bits of wire sticking out. “Use this. They will not be tracking those frequencies. You will have to search for the frequency matching that of your ship’s.”

Din thanked him and took a seat opposite the table at a rickety bench. You wandered over to the table, your eyes drinking in the sight of the devices. They were old, some Imperial grade. Some even looked homemade. You reached for one in particular, another antiquated radio that reminded you of one your mother used to use to keep in touch with her rebel contacts.

“You have experience in communications technology?” A soft voice at your back.

Studying the contraption in your hands, you half-turned towards Krawn. He was a human man; based off his accent, he might have been from Ryloth, maybe Pantoran. You knew little else about him other than the fact that he might have information that would lead the Mandalorian to the child’s people. But something about his manner and circumstances reminded you of your mother, of your way of life before you lost her. Dark tunnels, hidden chambers, routes of secrecy.

“Something like that,” you finally responded, turning the radio over in your hands.

“You may have it...if you wish.” The words were soft and you finally looked up at the owner of them.

He was watching you intently. “You are a child of the rebellion,” he said when you made eye contact.

For the second time in so many weeks, you felt seen. First by Kuill. Now by this stranger. Being close with the Mandalorian was having a strange side effect on your social life, one you weren’t sure you cared for yet. Still, you smiled. “How could you tell?”

He smiled back, his eyes crinkling warmly. “We are one and the same.”

From there it became easy to reminisce about days long past. Being the child of a rebel came with its own particular struggles along with its own specific benefits; it was hard not to relate to Krawn. When you finally glanced the Mandalorian’s way, you saw that he was watching the two of you, his body tense. And you wondered, not for the first time, what he was thinking.

Krawn looked over as well. “I suppose it is time we discuss what it is you came here for.”

But the Mandalorian’s eyes, you could tell, were on you. You glanced at Krawn then back at the Mandalorian before pocketing the radio and striding over to the bench, sitting flush against him and sliding your arm around his waist. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, and his own arm slid almost hesitantly around your shoulder.

Krawn took a seat on a stool just across from you now and if he noticed the affection displayed between you and Din, he said nothing. “Are they safe?”

This time you looked up at Din to see his nod, and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. That was good. The baby was with Kuill and IG, two trusted caretakers, likely somewhere up in space. Safe. You melted further into Din’s side.

“Thank you.” Din said finally to Krawn. “For warning us.”

Krawn nodded his head graciously as if to say of course. “I know the one you seek.” His words now as cryptic as his first.

You felt the Mandalorian tense again. You didn’t follow, not knowing how the Mandalorian had originally gotten the information about Argo and Felucia that had ultimately led you to Krawn, who obviously seemed to know much more already than you’d thought he would.

“Where?”

Krawn smiled almost brightly, his eyes finally landing on the Mandalorian’s hand where it rested on your shoulder. “Not where, but who.” His tone was light, playful.

“She is known as Fulcrum.” Here, Krawn took out his data pad from an inner pocket. “I have information as to where she last was, but her identity and location are well protected.”

“By who?”

“By her, of course.” Krawn smiled again, stood and handed Din the datapad. Din had to retract his arm from around you to use it. You leaned over as he scrolled.

Thabeska. A desert planet. You’d heard of it but never been there.

Krawn strode across the room and busied himself with something; you could hear the clinking of glass and the pouring of liquid. He spoke as he worked. “You should memorize that. I will have to destroy the data once you know it by memory.”

Then he was walking back and handing you a glass of what smelled like bahkahta. He peered at the Mandalorian, then, “I will leave this in that room just there.” He pointed at a door off the chamber. “You have had a tiring evening. The early morning will be much the same.”

He disappeared behind the door and then reappeared, shrugging off his cloak. You and Din stood.

Krawn seemed to sense Din’s question. “The Imperials change their guards every eight hours. They are due for the next just before sunrise. That will be the best time to make it past their defenses. I will guide you.” He stood aside and gestured to the room. “You may take my sleeping quarters for the night. For your privacy.” He made a motion as if taking a helmet off.

You opened your mouth but to say what you did not know, so you said nothing. Din would obviously not be taking the helmet off with you in the room. But then, he took your hand and drew you behind him. He tried offering Krawn the radio back, but Krawn held up his hands.

“Keep it. Inform your colleagues to be ready at dawn to recover you from where they left you.”

Din hesitated, then “Thank you.”

Krawn put one hand to his heart. “Thank _you_ , my friend.”

Krawn’s eyes lingered on you as if deep in thought as you disappeared into the room with the Mandalorian.

When Din closed the door, you eyed the sleep pad, then gazed slyly up at him. “It’s small.” You winked.

You heard a gruff noise, maybe a chuckle, then you were both settling onto it, no qualms about the cramped space. The Mandalorian didn’t remove his armor; this was a precarious situation and danger could occur at any moment. You hooked your knee over his leg anyway and rested your head on his chest as he studied the datapad. Eventually he handed it to you and you glanced at him. He was already looking your way and something in his demeanor made you sit up.

“Just in case.” He murmured.

You frowned. Just in case wh- Oh. You sat up further, your throat tightening against your will. In case he didn’t make it. Seeing that you understood his words, he reached up to cup your cheek. You swallowed hard but did as you were told and memorized all there was to know about Fulcrum, whoever she was. At the same time, Din sent a coded message to Kuill; you heard the affirmation on the other end. 

He took the data pad out of your hands when you were done and placed both that and the radio aside before handing you your glass of bahkahta. You downed it in one go, grinning over at him when you handed it back. He took it slowly and placed it aside as well, but there was something intense, charged about him now as the lights dimmed around you. 

Din lay back and pulled you to him. You went willingly, melting into his armor. The bahkahta had lit a fire within you, from your tongue to your lower abdomen. Otherwise all you felt was want. You hooked your legs over both of his legs and swiveled yourself so you were straddling him. He grunted, his hands automatically going to your hips and squeezing you there as you grinded down on him slowly, almost sensuously.

Din glanced towards the door to the room and the light still visible through the cracks. “We shouldn’t-” He shut up when you ground your hips downward into him once more.

“You’ll just have to keep it down,” you whispered sultrily. Before he could question your intent, you were sliding down along his body, your lips trailing kisses along his armor, as if it was his bare skin, which, in a way, it was.

You kept your eyes trained on his helmet, which was angled at you as he watched you breathlessly kissing down his body towards- His breath hitched under the helmet sharply and his hands covered yours where they had rested over his member, already stiff through his pants.

“Let me,” you whispered softly, so unlike your usual aggressive self in bed that he released your hands in surprise.

You squeezed his erection through his pants and your own breath caught when his hips flexed up towards your face. You drew your fingers away tantalizingly slow and then kissed his pants just over his hardness. The hiss from beneath his helmet, the way his hands tangled roughly in your hair brought a wicked smile to your face.

Finally, you unclasped his trousers; his fingers were still tangled in your hair and wrapped tight around the crown of your head. He did nothing to stop you.

His cock sprung up, fully erect and hard just inches from your lips and you could feel the warmth emanating from him. His fingers tightened within your hair.

You arched forward to wrap your lips around him. His hands on you seemed both to be pushing at you and pulling you forward, but it didn’t stop you from finally, blessedly taking him in your mouth. The head of his cock throbbed between your lips as you grazed it softly with your teeth. You could feel his entire body tense beneath you, taut, waiting to break and shatter at a moment’s notice.

You swirled your tongue around his tip, tasting the precum there, moaning around him in your mouth at the sensation. His hips bucked up into you, forcing his cock deeper into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged on his thickness but when he seemed to be pulling his hips back in regret at hurting you, your hands came around quickly to cup his bottom, holding him firmly deep in your mouth.

He groaned loudly and you squeezed his behind at the noise, reminding him to keep it down with your hands since you couldn’t use your mouth. You had started running your mouth up and down over his silky length, your spit dripping down his length as you went. You heard another muffled, hoarse groan from the helmet and suddenly his hands, tight on your head, were guiding you forcefully up and down his shaft. At the same time, you could feel him fucking up into you from below. You gagged with each up stroke. 

With as much force as you could muster, you forced his hips down so that you could take control. You heard a brief noise of impatience but then he let you lead, hissing through his teeth as you bobbed up and down his length expertly.

You could taste him on the back of your tongue and there was something impossibly sexy about it; you found yourself growing wet at the sensation. But this moment was not about you. You wanted to do this for him. Your eyes were watering as he fucked the back of your throat relentlessly.

You tightened your lips around his cock, using your tongue to rub up and down his member. You began using your hands, gathering the spit running down his cock to pump up and down, moving them in sync with your lips. His hips began bucking up out of control, no rhythm to the movements. 

You took him as deep as you could and held him there. He moaned loudly, clearly unable to control himself. When you pulled back, keeping your lips tightly wrapped around him, his hips began stuttering up and down. He cursed beneath the helmet.

Suddenly you felt the hot spurt of liquid hit the back of your throat, then another. You watched his helmet as you deliberately swallowed him down. He was clutching your jaw tightly with one hand, the other resting on the back of your head and holding it down. He loosened his grip and you pulled away, releasing him from your mouth. You heard the gasp of pleasure he made as you did so.

You could feel his staggered breathing beneath you as you reclasped his pants and swiped at the side of your mouth with a finger, which you licked while watching him intently, knowing he was watching you. As you traversed your way back back up his body, he took your face in his hand once more, his thumb rubbing at your cheek almost roughly, still overcome with his release as he was.

His other hand took you by the elbow and pulled you the rest of the way towards him. Then he was resting your head in the nook between his neck and shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around you. He said something under his breath in another language that you couldn’t decipher, but you didn’t need a translation to know what he was feeling. Because the same feeling was buried deep in your chest, clawing its way out, cementing within you that you were forever changed by this man.

☽⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺☾

Din shook you awake gently and untangled his limbs from yours. You watched blearily as he left the room, his cloak trailing after him. Then your eyes landed on the glass that had held his bahkahta and the way it was glaringly empty. You sat up, stretching, suddenly feeling wide awake; at some point in the night, Din had taken his helmet off to drink from the glass. You couldn’t help but wonder for how long he’d had it off. You’d never dwelled on thoughts involving his face, but the closer you grew to him, the more the thoughts came unbidden.

You hopped up out of the bed and slipped your arms through your outer tunic wrapping it warmly around you. Then you joined Din and Krawn in the outer chamber. They both watched your approach. Krawn held something out to you and you took it without thought. Turning it over in your hands, you realized it was an old homing beacon, likely untrackable by the Imperials.

“Thank you,” you told Krawn softly, slightly awed.

He clasped your hand briefly. “If you are a daughter of the rebellion and me a son, we are as good as siblings. May it guide you well.” He flashed a smile before turning to leave the chamber.

Quietly, the Mandalorian took your hand and squeezed it before leading you down the tunnel after Krawn.

The morning outside was cold and dark still, though you could see a sliver of sunlight far across the horizon. It took time to cross the settlement without being noticed or setting off any alarms. Krawn tracked your progress using another device he’d engineered for the purpose of sensing Imperials.

Finally, there was only one city square left between the three of you and the exit to the Settlement that would lead you home to the Razor Crest. The square was full of merchants setting up their wares along with early shoppers browsing for supplies. There would be no getting through unseen. Krawn motioned to the two of you to relax and act as normal as possible. He handed you the device he’d held for you to slip into your pocket. Then you began the walk across the last bit of the city before you were home free.

You frowned. Something was wrong. The square was too crowded, too quiet. Whispers you couldn’t decipher. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and you turned to say something to Din when suddenly- you went flying. Everything went flying. Everyone. An explosion so loud you could hear nothing, not even your own train of thought. You landed in the dirt of the square, pain taking over. You stirred and sat up. The crowd was rushing around in a panic trying to escape. Strong hands found your shoulders and lifted you from the ground; your sigh of relief was cut short when you saw it was Krawn.

“Are you alright?” He was asking but you could barely hear him. You looked down at yourself and slowly nodded at Krawn. “We have to go.”

You looked around desperately for that familiar armored figure, but with all the chaos, and the way your vision still seemed to be adjusting, you could not spot him. Krawn began pulling you across the square. 

Then, with no warning, he was pushing you roughly onto the ground; you cried out in protest, breaking your fall with your hands. You tasted dirt a split second before the sound of blaster fire and the accompanying usual screaming filled your ears. You screamed in pain at the sharp, hot feeling now shooting through your left ankle. You’d been hit. 

A thud sounded behind you and the blaster fire stopped though the screaming continued. Against your better judgment you twisted your head to see- You closed your eyes briefly in pain. Krawn...was gone. He’d died to save you. You had to try to get away. It was a struggle to even stand and by the time you had managed to get to your feet, you were surrounded. Stormtroopers, their blasters trained on you, two of them grabbing you roughly by the arms.

“Not so rough, boys.” You couldn’t help yourself, but it earned you the crack of the butt of a blaster across your face, breaking your lip. But you didn’t care. Finally, you’d spotted _him_ in a shadow between buildings, looking the worse for wear but alive and seemingly uninjured.

Your eyes met his visor from across the large courtyard. And you realized in that moment that you were never going to see him again. Despite your bleeding lip and the guards surrounding you, your dire situation, you shouted something, smiling wildly. One word. A parting gift, if nothing else. _Your name_. Then everything went black.

When you came to, you were crumpled on the cold concrete floor inside of what you assumed was the Imperial bunker Krawn had mentioned earlier while making your way through the tunnel. A man dressed in an Imperial uniform was shouting at guards who were swarming towards the exit, shouting “Find him!” You smiled into the ground with an out of control glee. He’d gotten away. With any luck he would be back at the ship and on to safety. He was _safe_. For the first time in your life since you’d lost your mother, it didn’t matter that you weren’t safe too. As long as he was. _They_ were.

“Call the death squad.” The commanding man’s cruel voice lilted. “Lock her up in the meantime. This one has a nasty history of escape.” You cried out when his metal boot toe dug into your side in a kick. “No need to be gentle,” he said as he walked away.

You looked up at the remaining men through your hands where they cradled your head. “Just you and me now, boys.” You smiled, the gesture cracking your already bleeding lips in pain.

They saw no need to be gentle either. Their kicks and punches hit you with a ferocity you didn’t understand; you’d never met these men, never hurt them. You tried to muffle your cries to avoid giving them the satisfaction; you were sure you felt your ribs break, and an arm. When they were done, you knew there would be no escape. The blaster shot in your ankle had seen to that. The next several moments were a blur as you were dragged through dark, dank hallways and tossed haphazardly into a small, empty cell. You lay there, unmoving, trying not to feel but could not say for how long.

For a moment, and only for a moment, you thought of yourself, here, alone, abandoned. And you sobbed brokenly. Somehow you had always known this would be your end. You’d spent most of your life, alone, continually abandoned, first by your mother’s death, then the rebellion. Now- You chided yourself for your own thoughts. If this was abandonment, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not if your predicament meant that those you had come to lov- no - that you had come to think of as family were safe.

Clutching your wounds, you breathed heavily. Your heart began hammering when you heard the outer cell door slam open again. You crawled backwards into the far corner, curling into a tight ball, stuffing your fist against your mouth to muffle your pained cry at the new position. You were shaking, you couldn’t help it. You knew what was coming but you weren’t sure you were ready for it. With your eyes tightly shut, you heard your cell door open again and heard a strange noise, as if something metallic had been tossed, along with a muffled grunt.

The cell door slammed shut with a clang and heavy footsteps led away. You heard your name spoken aloud, electronically modified by a vocoder. Your eyes shot up.

“No,” you wailed in pain that had nothing to do with your wounds, curling in on yourself fetally. No. Why? Why had he come back?

Ignoring your outburst, Din, whose armor had been removed, who seemed to be weaponless and injured, though nowhere near as injured as you, crawled your way until he was close enough to desperately pull you to him. He cradled your face in his hands, only now partially covered by his gloves which had been torn nearly to shreds in whatever fight had landed him here. You heard his breath hitch as he studied your injuries.

You were dazed, but you also knew what you were doing as your palm came to rest on his helmet lightly. The Imperials had you. The Mandalorian could have gotten away. Stupidly, so stupidly, he’d come back for you. He never should have. You weren’t worth that. But the most important thing now was that the Child was safe. IG and Kuill would ensure his safety, his survival. If not for you, if not for the child, then for the Mandalorian’s sacrifice. Surely, your execution next would be combined with his.

A stifled sob parted your lips, startling the Mandalorian whose gentle fingers came to rest on your neck, on your chin, searching urgently for the source of your pain and a way to quash it. But this was something those deftly skilled fingers could not fix. They could not prevent the pain of loss. Especially not when he was the one you were losing.

“Where does it hurt?” He pleaded. 

_Everywhere_. But you couldn’t tell him that. Did not want what might be his final moments to be filled with any more pain than necessary. And your pain was his now, you knew. He was so blastedly stubborn. He never, never, never should have fallen for you. Not you. Not out of all the creatures in the universe he could have pursued instead. 

You shook your head blearily, wanting to soothe him but not having the words. You sat up as best as you could in his arms, and he helped you, held you up. But you swayed in his grasp so you could reach up and palm the cool metal of his armor again. You knew he was staring straight into your eyes, even if you couldn’t see _his_.

“There’s something I need you to know.” Your voice was ragged, strained and all but defeated.

His helmet tilted in your grasp. “You can tell me later-” He began.

“No,” you insisted, and the strength it took you cost you severely, but you sat up straighter until your head was leaning against his helmet in what you now knew to be the equivalent of a kiss in Mandalorian culture. “In my life…” You struggled. “There is...only you.” The words were easy, perhaps the easiest combination of words you’d ever conjured. Nothing had ever been truer. Though it hurt to say. So much.

He murmured your name weakly, pleadingly. “We’re going to get out of this,” he promised, his voice cracking.

“In the alley,” you ignored him fully, knowing that was not how the universe worked, not the universe you’d lived in since your mother had been taken from you while fighting for all that was right and just in the universe. You could fight for the rightest, most truest ideals in the galaxy and still your survival and success were not guaranteed. Krawn was another testament to that. Din did not move you from your place in front of him nor shift his head from where it leaned heavily against yours as he supported your body weight completely in his arms. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn't have fought you. I should have told you then.” Now you struggled for the right words, willing him to understand why you’d attacked him instead of thanking him. “I didn’t know then. Not well enough to tell you. But I know now. I was so sure then that you had been about to die at the hands of Ker Hanna. And it made me so angry. That you’d have died for _me_. _There_. For nothing.”

The Mandalorian made a low sound in the back of his throat, nearly a growl. “For nothing?” He repeated. He sounded so angry, but you had no energy to spare for an emotion like anger in this moment. So you soaked in the feelings emanating from him instead as he continued. “When I saw you in the alley- When I saw them hurting you-” He sighed so heavily now. “You had been so annoying.” His voice was almost amused now and you smiled against his helmet. “But when I saw you...you have to understand, it was as if I was losing my life in front of my eyes. And I couldn’t explain to myself why it felt that way.”

You choked back a sob. “You shouldn’t have come, Mandalorian.” You supposed you had it in you for a little bit of anger. 

He sighed again and you felt his hands take yours, his helmet never leaving your forehead. You leaned against him so you would not fall. “You’re not listening, thief.” The endearment that had not so long ago been an insult brought fresh tears to your eyes. “I didn’t have a choice. Your life is more precious to me than my own.” His voice cracked.

You let out a shaky breath. You felt peace now. You may not have believed you deserved it, but you didn’t get to choose how he felt, least of all about you. “I am so happy I got to meet you before-” Your voice had grown so weak and you knew the Mandalorian was suddenly worried about you again.

“We’re going to get out of here,” he swore. 

As if on cue, in the distance, you heard the echo of an explosion. You frowed up at Din in spite of yourself.

“IG.” And you heard the smile in his voice.

☽⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺☾

Less than an hour later, you were back aboard the Razor Crest; you would all be in hyperspace any second now. The Imperial guards had been poorly trained and ill prepared; though they’d greatly outnumbered your party, they had been outmatched in nearly every other respect. By the time IG had reached your cell, he’d taken out half of the stormtroopers stationed there.

Din shielded you with his own body just before the cell door blasted open, but the droid had been calculated and neither of you had been injured.

“You required rescue,” the droid monotoned now. If he wasn’t a droid, you would have sworn he was being sarcastic. 

Din only grunted in response, but you knew him well enough by now to hear the affection in the noise. Piled between the droid’s long arms was Din’s armor, blaster and pulse rifle. You were amazed at the speed with which Din replaced his armor, holstered his blaster and shouldered his rifle. Then he was rushing back to you and gathering you in his arms, knowing you were far too injured to argue. The three of you fought your way out of the bunker; you still had enough sense about you to wield a spare blaster the droid had picked off a dead stormtrooper. The remaining troopers dropped rapidly, leaving your way back to the square free. There, the Razor Crest, powered up and manned by Kuill, was waiting for you. The Mandalorian had just crossed the threshold of the ship carrying you when you spotted Krawn across the square. Your heart dropped and fresh tears found their way to your eyes. 

“Wait,” you exclaimed, stopping the Mandalorian who’d been about to close the door to the Crest.

“We have to go,” he seemed surprised.

Not wanting to speak the man’s name for fear of losing your composure, you pointed towards the spot in the courtyard he now occupied. “We can’t leave him.” Though you’d thought you’d kept your tone even, you were sure the Mandalorian had heard the wavering in your voice.

He hesitated but only for a quick second, then- “IG, cover me.” He put you down as gently as possible then rushed back out the door.

Without question, the droid followed Din back out to the square wielding two blasters at once against the remaining handful of stormtroopers. Seconds later, they reappeared, Din carrying Krawn’s lifeless body.

Din lay Krawn gently across the hull before coming back to you and lifting you onto the sleep cot to begin inspecting your wounds. At the same time, you could feel the ship soaring high into the sky and away from the desecration this previously lovely planet had turned into.

“IG, help me.” Din’s voice was rough as he began removing your boot.

The droid hesitated then turned toward Krawn. “My sensors indicate this human male’s lifeline is shorter if not given medical aid.”

You both stared at the droid before Din was springing into action. By the time the ship had reached hyperspace, IG, with the help of Din and a large helping of bacta, had Krawn largely stabilized. It would take him time to heal, but he was alive.

Then it was your turn. You held Din’s hand tightly while IG patched your ankle up. The child had reappeared from the cockpit and was laughing delightedly at each noise and face of pain you made. His antics were beginning to grow on you, but you pretended not to smile anyway.

Hours later, you were no longer in pain but you were still healing. Kuill and IG were manning the cockpit; you’d made sure to thank them both but had kept it short for fear of choking up. Just remembering your ordeal from now on was going to do that to you. Now, you sat between Din’s legs on the floor of the hull, back to his chest, both of you watching the child’s light snores where he lay on the sleep cot. Din kept touching you as if to make sure you were real. His fingers would touch and trace your nose, or your earlobe, or your elbow. 

Neither of you spoke for a long time, you merely soaked in each other’s presence. There was no fighting the truth of your feelings for him anymore; you’d told him everything he needed to know back on Lothal. Before, when you’d been depriving him of that, you’d thought that opening yourself up so vulnerably to someone else could only result in heartache and pain. But now, as his fingers laced through yours tenderly, you knew there was sometimes more heartache at risk if you didn’t reveal those truths.

Din broke the silence first. “Back on Arvala, when you were talking to Kuill about the list…” He stopped as if unsure, but you squeezed his hand so he would continue. “I’ll help you with your list.”

“But the child.” Despite your mutual confessions, you couldn’t help the surprise you felt every time you realized how much he had come to care for you.

His other hand was tracing light lines along your clavicle. “We’ll pursue both leads...together.” Here his arm tightened across your chest, pulling you into him, an embrace you felt to your core.

“You don’t have to…” you started.

“I do.” He interrupted you, his voice soft. He left go of your hand and brought his arm up across your chest in the other direction to complete the embrace. Your hands came up to cover his over your heart, and you let yourself melt into him.

“Ok,” you whispered, giving in for the first time in your life. Then- “Thank you.” He only rested his head on yours in response.

Soon it would be time to figure out the next step, time to figure out the paths for everyone else aboard the ship with you, time to figure out the child’s path and yours with Din. But for now, you were content to rest, at peace at last, in the arms of the man you loved.


	7. Epilogue

You studied the list again. Your mother had accomplished so much in her short tenure with the Rebel Alliance. So much. There were so many names on this list. Some of them dead already as Din described to you. Some of them, the ones that mattered now, still out there, still taking mothers away from children, husbands from wives, children from parents. These were the ones you were going to get. Together. 

Things had gotten so bad again in the galaxy. The galaxy needed someone like your mother. You didn’t think you could ever measure up, despite Din’s insistence. What it needed was another rebellion. You clenched the necklace tight in your palm. It needed a resistance. You felt a tug on the end of the cord and looked down. 

“Troublemaker,” you stuck your tongue out at the child, making him giggle delightedly as he pulled on the necklace. Not so long ago, you never would have let the necklace out of your grasp. But your mother had passed it to you. And eventually you too would have to pass it on. You could think of no one more worthy as you placed the leather cord around the child’s neck, letting him suck on what was now just a metal talisman.

A noise on the ramp brought you to your feet. Though you and Din had a new mission in mind, the Imperials were still, and would always be, after the child. But the gait on the ramp seemed familiar until-

“Stop or I’ll shoot,” you spoke through gritted teeth. But you didn’t give the stranger a chance to make a choice because you were barreling at them, your intent to get them out of the ship, away from the child, hoping to alert Din, wherever he was. The stranger let out a familiar grunt as you both fell from the top of the ramp to the ground below. 

You struggled with the stranger, elbowing him in the abdomen, attempting to kick at his legs, attempting to hit or kick or hurt him anywhere.

“Stop,” he finally rasped, and you froze. Then you were struggling out of his strong grip and clambering away on all fours. You stayed that way facing the ground, your eyes closed shut tightly anyway. 

“Are you insane?” You hissed, fury strong in your tone.

He sighed, the first time you’d ever heard that sound uninhibited by the helmet. You felt his strong hands grasp your arms and pick you up from the ground to set you straight, but you covered your face with your hands.

“Stop,” he said again, prying gently at your fingers. His voice… Like everything else about him so familiar, yet so foreign. Unmuffled by the helmet, you could finally hear him clearly. His voice was soft and melodic yet still rugged and firm.

“It’s forbidden,” you pleaded, not understanding, wondering wildly if he’d been attacked and drugged with something that made him lose sense.

He chuckled now. And it was the first time you’d truly heard that noise. It brought an automatic if involuntary smile to your lips. His chuckles and laughs had always been muffled by the helmet, so much that you’d never truly heard them before. But the thought sobered you again.

“What are you doing?” You said through gritted teeth now.

His hands covered yours still, but he stopped struggling with them. 

“It’s only forbidden for…” He trailed off then started again. “In my culture...we are never to remove the helmet, unless-” He cut himself off again and moved his hands down to cup your face tenderly. “It is not forbidden in front of your family. In front of your children. In front of your...wife.”

Your brow furrowed tightly. He _was_ crazy. “Din,” you finally breathed.

He drew in a sharp breath. 

You realized then...you’d never spoken his name out loud to him before. 

“Say it again,” his bare finger traced your lips.

You hesitated, then- “Din.” It felt so good passing through your lips. You’d only ever thought the name before. 

Suddenly, you felt him swoop down at you and then-

 _Oh_. His lips were so incredibly soft. You were so thrown that your hands fell from your face so your arms could encircle his neck as you kissed him back. But you kept your eyes tightly closed. You’d never stopped to think how good this would feel. To kiss him. To kiss Din. You felt his tongue enter your mouth and you moaned, finding his tongue with yours. Tasting him finally. He tasted better than anything you could have ever possibly imagined. The rhythm your lips found was instantaneously perfect. You let his tongue wander your mouth, too dazed to do anything but kiss him back breathlessly. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Open your eyes,” he breathed hoarsely. Kriff, how could even his voice be so perfect?

“Din,” you repeated. “I’m not your wife.” The sentiment came out sad, though it was true.

He chuckled again and the sound sent your belly swooping. You could feel his breath against your face; nothing had ever felt so sweet, so meaningful. It made you so happy to hear something as simple as his laugh, even if it was at your expense. 

“You are.” Two simple words. With those two simple words, he unraveled you.

“Hey,” he said softly, wiping the tears from your face. “Hey,” he repeated. So soft. Then he was kissing the salt from your eyes, from your face, from your lips, until he was kissing you fully again.

You’d never felt like this before. Never. Not when he filled you completely. Not at the height of your greatest pleasure with him. Not ever. Too full. Too happy. Too complete. As if the most minor inconvenience could suddenly occur to tear all your happiness apart. But, you remembered your mother long ago saying that...that was life. Even if that was what ended up happening, you relished these moments. The moments of fullness and happiness and _life_. 

“You are.” He repeated against your lips, his fingers trailing up your face to brush softly over your closed eyelids. “You are.”

You surged forward to kiss him once more, tasting your tears between your lips. You couldn’t forget what had happened to your mother, everything you had gone through. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t. But it had all brought you to this moment, a moment you never would have thought you’d ever experience much less deserve. But if you didn’t deserve it, why would it have unfolded so perfectly for you?

Finally-

You opened your eyes. _Oh_. He was so beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with this through to the end! It's been such a journey and I'm sad to be at its end but I hope you all enjoyed this. I hope the epilogue was fulfilling and wrapped this up perfectly. Not gonna lie, I'd definitely consider revisiting this story in the future, either with a sequel or small ficlet additions. But for now I hope I did the Mandalorian show justice and that everyone found something just a little meaningful through this. It's been so fun to write and to get all your lovely comments. I hope you all consider reading more of what I've got to come in the near future! <3


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